The laboratory was silent except for the gentle bubbling of carefully tended cauldrons as Geralt worked through the night, preparing his first batches of medium-grade enhancement formulas. The processes were significantly more complex than the basic recipes he'd mastered—requiring precise temperature control, specific lunar timing, and ingredients that took weeks to properly prepare.
The Enhanced Body Fortification formula demanded monsters parts he'd never worked with before: basilisk scales ground to powder under starlight, griffin feathers dissolved in acid, and most challenging of all, cockatrice bile that had to be harvested during the creature's mating season. Fortunately, Vesemir maintained extensive stores of such materials from decades of contracts.
As the first batch reached completion, Geralt carefully decanted the resulting serum into specially prepared vials. The liquid glowed with a faint golden light—a sign of properly activated magical compounds. According to the formula, each dose would provide a permanent +3 Strength increase, but the effects would diminish after twenty applications as the body reached its enhancement threshold.
The Advanced Psychic Clarity formula proved even more demanding. It required rare fungi that grew only in caves inhabited by endrega, midnight oils extracted from certain flowers during eclipses, and most unusually, a small amount of processed dimeritium to help stabilize the magical energies. The final product shimmered with silver highlights and carried a faint scent of ozone.
By dawn, Geralt had completed six doses of each formula—enough to provide each of his friends with their first enhancement while keeping reserves for future use. He sealed the vials in protective cases and hid them among his personal effects, maintaining the secrecy that had become second nature.
Finding opportunities to share the enhanced serums proved easier than expected. During their regular training sessions, he began offering "experimental energy drinks" to boost performance during particularly challenging exercises.
"Here," he said casually as they prepared for a grueling endurance run up the mountain paths. "Something new I've been working on with my mother. Should help with stamina."
Eskel accepted his vial without question—their friendship had built a foundation of complete trust. Jacob examined the golden liquid curiously before downing it in one gulp. Dick and Vicky followed suit, though Vicky raised an eyebrow at the unusual taste.
The effects were immediate and dramatic. During their run, all four demonstrated increased speed and endurance that impressed even Vesemir. Eskel's usual steady pace became a ground-eating stride, Jacob powered up steep inclines without losing breath, Dick navigated rocky terrain with newfound sure-footedness, and Vicky's smaller frame no longer held him back from keeping pace with the boys.
"Remarkable improvement," Vesemir observed as they completed the circuit in record time. "Whatever you've been feeding them, Geralt, keep it up."
Over the following weeks, Geralt distributed the enhanced serums gradually, always maintaining the pretense of experimental nutrition or performance supplements. His friends' capabilities grew steadily—Strength increasing by three points per dose, MP reserves expanding by five points each time.
But more than the physical improvements, Geralt noticed deeper changes in group dynamics. The shared enhancements created a new level of coordination in their training. They began moving together with almost telepathic precision, anticipating each other's actions in ways that amazed their instructors.
"You five fight like you've been together for years," Vesemir commented after a particularly impressive tactical exercise. "That kind of unity usually takes decades to develop."
The secret bonding went beyond combat effectiveness. Enhanced physical capabilities reduced the stress and fatigue that often led to friction between training partners. With more energy and better performance, everyone remained in good spirits even during the most demanding sessions.
Eskel pulled Geralt aside one evening as they cleaned their gear after practice. "I don't know what exactly you're doing," he said quietly, "but I know you're the reason we're all improving so rapidly. Whatever it costs you—time, ingredients, energy—we appreciate it more than you know."
Similar conversations occurred with Jacob, Dick, and Vicky over the following days. None pressed for details about his methods, but all expressed gratitude for his dedication to their collective success. The bonds between them deepened beyond simple friendship into something approaching family.
"We're becoming something new," Vicky observed one night as they sat together on the fortress walls, looking out over the moonlit peaks. "Not just individuals training to be witchers, but a real pack. Like wolves, but... more."
Geralt nodded, feeling the weight and warmth of their shared destiny. Through chemistry and care, through enhancement and empathy, they were forging connections that would last lifetimes—assuming they all survived the trials ahead.
Winter's approach brought changes to Kaer Morhen beyond the usual preparations for cold and isolation. As Vesemir's students demonstrated increasing competence and coordination, the old witcher began sharing more personal aspects of his centuries of experience—stories not just about contracts and combat, but about the loneliness of the witcher's path and the precious value of genuine connections.
"I've trained hundreds of boys over the years," he said one evening as they gathered around the great hearth, the wind howling outside like a living thing. "Most of them... most of them don't survive the trials. And of those who do, many drift away from Kaer Morhen after their training, following the Path alone until they die forgotten in some distant land."
Geralt watched his friends' faces in the firelight—Eskel's thoughtful frown, Jacob's concerned expression, Dick's uncharacteristic seriousness, Vicky's wide-eyed attention. They were all thinking the same thing: was that the future waiting for them?
"But sometimes," Vesemir continued, his voice softening, "sometimes you encounter something special. A group that becomes more than the sum of its parts. A family forged by choice rather than blood."
He looked at each of them in turn, his ancient eyes holding depths of memory and feeling. "You five... you're becoming that kind of family. I see it in how you fight together, learn together, support each other. It's rare. It's precious. And it's worth protecting."
Over the following weeks, their training evolved to reflect this growing bond. Instead of individual instruction, Vesemir began teaching them as a unit—showing them how to combine their different strengths into seamless tactical approaches."Geralt, you're the natural leader," he explained during one such session. "Your instincts for reading situations and people are exceptional. Eskel, you're the rock—stable, reliable, the one others can count on. Jacob brings innovation and adaptability. Dick provides emotional balance and keeps morale high. And Vicky..." he smiled at the young man whose determination had impressed them all, "Vicky sees connections the rest of us miss. Together, you're formidable."
But the most significant changes came in their personal interactions with their master. Vesemir began opening up about his own history—the loneliness of outliving everyone he cared about, the weight of responsibility for preserving witcher knowledge, the quiet satisfaction of seeing his students grow into worthy successors.
"I never had children of my own," he admitted one night as he helped Geralt repair a damaged practice sword. "The mutations... they take that possibility away. But watching you five develop, seeing you become not just capable witchers but decent people... it's as close to parental pride as I'm likely to experience."
For Geralt, these moments were particularly meaningful. While he had Visenna's love and guidance, there were aspects of his development that only another witcher could understand. Vesemir filled that role with patience and wisdom accumulated over centuries.
"Your mother has given you something most witchers never have," Vesemir said during one of their private conversations. "A foundation of unconditional love. That's your greatest strength—and potentially your greatest vulnerability. Never lose the capacity to care, but learn to protect yourself from caring too much. The world will test that balance constantly."
Similar conversations occurred between Vesemir and each of the others. With Eskel, he discussed the burden of being the reliable one—how to bear others' expectations without losing yourself. With Jacob, he explored the balance between innovation and tradition. With Dick, he talked about using humor and optimism as tools for survival rather than mere entertainment. .
These individual guidance sessions created deeper bonds between master and students. They began seeking his advice on matters beyond combat training—personal concerns, philosophical questions, anxieties about their futures. Vesemir responded to each inquiry with the wisdom of experience and the care of a father who wanted his children to thrive.
The transformation was most visible during meal times, which evolved from functional feeding periods into family gatherings. Vesemir began sharing stories from his youth, asking about their dreams and fears, offering encouragement during difficult training periods. The formal distance between instructor and students dissolved into something warmer and more meaningful.
"You know," Jacob said one evening as they lingered over dinner, "I never really understood what having a father might feel like. But I think... I think this might be it.