Playing With Magic

[P]-[W]-[M]

Reality: The Witcher

Yennefer Of Vengeberg

[P]-[W]-[M]

Yennefer found it ingenious. Enlarging the inside trunks through Enchantments so one could always carry around comfortable lodging no matter where they went. It was unfortunate she had yet to understand the magic used to create it, even as she continued to softly poke and prod her surroundings with her magic.

The environment they were in—one of many the trunks had—resembled a proper training ground—open, well-lit, and perfectly suited for sparring. A couch had been placed near the edge, where Geralt and Yennefer sat watching John and Ciri train. Wooden swords clashed in the air as the two combatants circled each other, Cirilla panting lightly while Johnathan — not even winded in the slightest — moved with an unnerving calm and precision.

Geralt's sharp yellow eyes observed the pair while he leaned back with his arms crossed. He glanced sideways at Yennefer. "So," he started with his usual rough, raspy voice. "How did you come across a child with Elder Blood?" He tilted his head slightly. "It's rare enough as it is. But to have him appear as your 'child surprise'? That's another level of unexpected."

Yennefer didn't immediately reply, her violet eyes fixed on the sparring session as John sidestepped one of Ciri's attacks effortlessly. Then, with a faint, amused smirk, she said nonchalantly, "Pure coincidence, of course."

Geralt snorted as his lips twitched in a smirk of his own. "Coincidence?... Or perhaps it was destiny."

Yennefer sighed theatrically, conceding the point with a wave of her hand. "Coincidence, destiny, the universe, it doesn't really matter what word you use. But it was hardly something I had planned. I was on my way to the temple, stopped at a village, and healed a farmer's sick child. Then the farmer suddenly realised he didn't actually have the money to pay me." Her tone turned dry, a hint of bemusement slipping through. "Next thing I know, he's blurting out 'the law of surprise,' and Johnathan quite literally fell out of the sky."

Geralt's smirk deepened. "Yeah, sounds a lot like destiny to me."

Yennefer shot him a side glance, quirking her lips slightly despite herself. "You would say that, wouldn't you?"

Before Geralt could reply, a sharp sound echoed through the training room—Johnathan disarming Cirilla with a precise flick of his wrist. Her wooden sword spun through the air, landing with a dull clatter several feet away. Jonathan stepped forward smoothly, pointing the tip of his own wooden blade at her throat.

"You need to watch your spacing and footwork," The boy instructed in a calm but firm voice. "If you overextend, you give your opponent an opening. Stay balanced."

Cirilla's green eyes narrowed as she shot him a mild glare, clearly indicating her frustration. Jonathan, unfazed, raised a hand and used controlled Telekinesis to levitate her wooden sword back to her. Something Yennefer could sense but felt different to the magic she was used to sensing. The weapon hovered in the air for a moment before it floated toward her waiting hand. Jonathan stepped back, giving her space to reset. "Again," he said simply.

Ciri gripped her sword tightly, determination flashing across her face, and lunged back into the sparring session.

Geralt, watching intently, murmured, "He's good."

Yennefer turned toward him slightly, clearly wanting to satisfy her curiosity. "What do you think of him? Physically, I mean. He's clearly not like an ordinary human, not including his Elder Blood, that is."

Geralt exhaled slowly, eyes still fixed on the boy as he effortlessly parried Ciri's strikes. "His physique is impressive—significantly better than mine, that's for sure. He was clearly holding back during our spars. To him, it seemed like lessons on the techniques I was using rather than trying to out speed, strength, or stamina a Witcher. Whatever enhancements he's gone through—whether through magic, potions, or something else—they're far superior to what we Witchers have."

Yennefer nodded thoughtfully, her eyes narrowing as she observed her child's fluid movements. "I've noticed that as well. But that alone doesn't make him this skilled, does it?"

"No." Geralt shook his head slightly as he spoke. "That's all him. His physical abilities might give him an edge, but it's his skill with a sword that's truly remarkable. Every movement is deliberate. Balanced. Controlled.."

As they spoke, Jonathan once again caught Cirilla's attack mid-swing, deflecting it with minimal effort before stepping into her guard. He tapped her shoulder lightly with his wooden sword, signaling another point won.

"Your shoulders are too tight," Jonathan—John — her ward, pointed out calmly. "Relax them. Tension will slow you down."

Cirilla — Ciri, groaned softly but nodded, resetting her stance as John stepped back again, allowing her to prepare for another bout.

Geralt watched the scene with quiet approval. "He's not just strong; he's disciplined. And that's something no amount of enhancements can teach."

Yennefer smirked faintly as she leaned back against the couch, smug. "Coming from you, that's high praise."

Geralt didn't respond immediately, his sharp gaze still locked on John. After a moment, he muttered, "It's deserved."

They fell into silence again, watching as John and Ciri began another round. This time, Ciri managed to land a glancing strike on John's side — or more specifically, John allowed her to as he had promised to stay at her speed to focus more on improving her technique — before he pivoted around her, disarmed her with a swift motion, and pointed his sword at her back.

"You're improving," He complimented encouragingly despite the outcome. "Keep working on your timing."

Ciri sighed but smiled faintly, wiping sweat from her brow. "I'll get you eventually, you know."

John chuckled softly, stepping back and lowering his sword. "No, you won't."

"She'll learn a lot from him," Geralt murmured as his gaze lingered on Ciri, more to himself than to Yennefer, watching as she eagerly picked up her sword to continue while arguing her future victory.

Yennefer tilted her head, her expression softening as she looked at the two starting another round. "Yes," she agreed. "Honestly I'm surprised you took to learning the Healing and Mage Light spell he taught us so easily. I didn't realise you had such an affinity for that kind of magic."

"Me neither," Geralt smirked faintly. "Honestly, I still don't think I am. I think it was some sort of Elder Blood effect that made it so easy for me to learn. Though, Ciri has yet to teach me any spells, so I can't be sure of that yet."

"Oh, it's definitely something he did," Yennefer explained. "From what I could sense, he somehow made sure we all became a stable source. No need to gain energy from fire, air or other elements like most other mages any more. That's why we're all finding it so much easier to learn his spells."

The sound of their wooden swords clashing continued to echo through the training space while the two wards restarted again. Ciri, despite her growing fatigue, was clearly improving under John's instruction. After casting the green stamina restoration spell John had taught them on herself, she was back to full stamina and back in the fight with much less sluggish movements. Each strike and parry was sharper, more focused, though John still effortlessly controlled the pace of their bouts.

On the couch, Yennefer leaned back with a satisfied smirk, her violet eyes flicking between the sparring duo and Geralt. "You know," she began in a tone Geralt always said was her gloating voice. "He's been teaching me spells during his downtime."

Geralt raised an eyebrow, his yellow eyes narrowing slightly. "Is that right?" He asked. "I've been meaning to ask, what is the research he goes off to do when he's not training with us or spending time in your magic sessions with Ciri? I know he goes around town healing people, but the research is a different story."

Yennefer shrugged as she watched her ward parry one of Ciri's strikes and gently pushed her back to reset her stance. "Well, let's just say you don't need to take him to Kaer Morhen anymore. He's already learned all he needed to know about monsters from Witchers who came before."

Geralt frowned in confusion. "Witchers who came before? What's that supposed to mean?"

"He has a way of obtaining information from people long past," Yennefer explained. She was slightly jealous she couldn't learn the technique, especially knowing that it was possibly even more useful than the Telepathy Witches use, seeing that there were so many spells and techniques lost to the past. There were more dead people than there were living, after all. "Think of it like how residual magic left behind after spells, rituals, or even powerful emotions can still be detected after a location is vacated. It's like sifting through echoes of the past."

Geralt nodded as he watched John deflecting another of Ciri's strikes and countering with a feint. "Sounds useful," he said casually.

Yennefer smirked. "Oh, it really is. He even learned how to do the Witcher trials."

That caught Geralt's attention. He leaned forward, letting his intense yellow cat-like eyes lock onto Yennefer. "What do you mean?"

Yennefer gestured toward John with a subtle flick of her hand. "He figured out how to recreate the Trial of the Grasses and Dreams almost a week ago."

Geralt's eyes widened, shock plain on his face, forcing its way past the so-called muted emotion of Witchers. "He what?"

Yennefer gave him a sidelong glance, clearly enjoying the reaction. "Not only that, but he improved it. Made it work on anyone, not just children, and removed the mortality risk completely. He calls it a … 'Super Soldier Potion.'"

Geralt sat back heavily as his gaze shifted to the boy in question who was still sparring like there was no other worry in the world. "And you're just telling me this now?" Geralt asked with incredulity.

"I'm telling you now," Yennefer shrugged elegantly. "Besides, it's not really relevant. The upgraded version hasn't been tested, and even if it were, John refuses to let anyone have it. Not even me."

Geralt's eyes narrowed as he turned back to her. "Why not? He would certainly benefit from it."

"Because," Yennefer said, her tone softening slightly, "he doesn't trust anyone with it. And I agree with him. Something like that—an easy way to create enhanced individuals, soldiers—it's too dangerous. Imagine the damage someone could do with an army of Witchers. Look at what they already do without Witchers. He's right to keep it a secret."

Geralt sighed, rubbing his temple. "You're not wrong," he admitted, thinking about all the things he's witnessed humans do to other species and each other over the years. "The potential for abuse outweighs any benefit. Even if it could create more Witchers, the cost of someone weaponising it is too high. Still, it's impressive. He must have been raised well to have that kind of mindset."

Geralt leaned back on the couch once more as his yellow eyes scanned the sparring duo, just in time to see Ciri over-extending and paying the price for such a mistake. "Besides," Geralt muttered. "Monsters — at least the non-human ones — are nearly extinct now anyway. Keeping the secret to himself is for the best."

Yennefer nodded, her gaze flicking between Geralt and John. "Exactly. Its not like he needs anything from Lords and Kings. He has multiple farms of food in briefcases, a way to gain any knowledge in the world about magic or otherwise and comfortable lodging. If anything, I would argue his biggest problem is that he's too reclusive."

Geralt grunted in agreement as the two fell into a contemplative silence, their focus returning to the sparring session. John had just disarmed Ciri yet again, calmly pointing out another mistake before they reset.

[P]-[W]-[M]

Jonathan Grey

[P]-[W]-[M]

Stepping smoothly out of Ciri's reach as I parried Ciri's final strike, I raised my free hand to signal the end of our sparring session.

"That's enough for today," I told the exhausted but still eager girl, handing her a water bottle from the [Hoard] as we began walking toward the couch where Yennefer and Geralt were seated. "You're improving. Your timing is better, and you're starting to anticipate your opponent's moves. Keep it up."

Ciri smiled, slightly flushed but clearly pleased with the compliment, though still frustrated she had yet to beat me in a single spar even though I was keeping my speed similar to her own. "Thanks."

When we reached the couch, I cast a quick [Scourgify]l, removing the sweat and grime from both our clothes — mostly for her benefit as I barely broke a sweat during the entire spar — leaving us both refreshed and gaining a grateful look from the lion cub.

"So, when are you going to make my Wand?" Ciri asked, tilting her head. "You promised."

I did promise. Her control was horrendous. Granted, she had more power compared to normal Witches in the verse, and with that power came more difficulty in control. But at least she was able to learn the Skyrim spells I taught her, Yennefer and Geralt so far just fine. Surprisingly, all I had to do was send some Magika into their system to give them the same internal magic 'Source' as any resident Skyrim mage.

"When you've learned better control," I gave her a pointed look as I spoke. "Without it, a wand becomes a crutch, and I'd rather you not depend on it. Especially knowing it can easily break. The spells I taught you don't need as much control to work, but having better control will allow you to conserve magic with each spell."

Ciri rolled her eyes, taking a sip from the water bottle. "Fine," she muttered, though her tone was half-playful.

I knew she was happy I taught her some spells, though. At first,t she was frustrated when she kept messing up under Yennefer's tutelage, preferring to practise swordsmanship over magic. But when I started teaching them Skyrim spells, she started lightning up and acting less like a brat, even coming to like Yennefer as she did in the games.

At this point, with how much time I spent with her, Yennefer herself has started to treat me like Geralt treats Ciri, like an adopted son. It was a little weird, considering I was a fully grown man in a 13-year-old's body, but it didn't really bother me too much. I treated her like an aunt or like the Fosterer from foster home back in the Potter-verse.

Ignoring Ciri's reaction, I continued. "Anyway, I've been working on it. I've had some endangered magical creatures collected and safely placed in one of my briefcases. Their materials will be used for crafting the wands. I'll be making one for each of you soon. Though something tells me Geralt will prefer fighting with spells that allow him to keep his hand free, he'll get on too."

Yennefer raised an eyebrow but said nothing, exchanging a glance with Geralt, who simply shrugged with an affirming grunt. We began heading toward the exit of the training compartment as Yennefer spoke up. "Will you be joining Ciri's magic lesson today, or do you have another one of your mysterious projects lined up this week?"

I gave her a slight smile. "Another project. But if you get bored of staying here at the temple, you're all welcome to stay at my home."

"Honestly, not a fan of magical travel," Geralt said bluntly with a grunt as he furrowed his brow, eliciting a soft chuckle from Yennefer.

"Then you'll be glad to know you can walk there. No magical travel required."

Yennefer arched an eyebrow, "When did you buy a home in Ellander?"

"I didn't," I shook my head before climbing up the ladders out of the briefcase. "It's more of a… portable home. Like the briefcases, but an actual house instead of magically enlarged luggage."

"Sure, we can head there now if it's close by. Have lunch there instead?" Yennefer agreed on their behalf after seeing Ciri look toward Geralt for permission, which he gave. The sorceress then teasingly added, "It'll be good to give Ciri a further break from all the magic studies. She could use the rest."

Ciri groaned softly, but there was a smile on her face as she followed while summoning [Mage Light]. From the moment I told her the more she used magic, the more magic she would have she has been spamming non-lethal spells non-stop to build her already large reserves whenever she could.

I had completed my version of the Super Soldier Serum in the form of a potion refined from the witcher trials, but I was hesitant to give it to her — or anyone for that matter — just yet. I didn't want it to get to her head that she could take on the world now that her physique was enhanced. I was also able to remove the components that would make a Witcher sterile. The only downside was that I didn't really know if it reached Captain America levels of physical strength, but I was damn well sure it was up there.

[Super Soldier Potion V1]

[Description: A potion created by Johnathan Grey after learning all the Witcher trials from long-dead Mages with the help of the Ressurection Stone. The potion puts the drinker into a 7-day comma while it proceeds to enhance their reflexes, metabolism, endurance, stamina, strength, and senses while slowing their ageing and granting night vision.]

[+Turns the drinker's eyes cat-like.]

[+Provides a small mana pool.]

[+Enhance physical capabilities.]

[+De-accelerated aging.]

I have no regrets about removing the aspect that removed the pigmentation in the hair of the drinker while keeping the benefits of those extra experiments. I refused to have any of those anime tropes on my head. Even after creating the potion though, I saw no reason to drink it until I improved it to the level I deemed worthy, not that I needed it at the moment. But I had a plan for that too.

I led the three off the temple grounds, getting approached by several villagers as soon as we made it through the courtyard, faces lighting up as soon as they caught sight of us, or more specifically, me.

"Thank you again for healing my son, my lord!" A man said, carrying a basket of apples, which he held out for me to take. I was pretty sure he said he was a fisherman, so I was guessing he was taking my idea of buying apples and planting the seeds in his reasonably large backyard.

"I can't thank ya' enough for my husband's leg! He's been spry as a fox the last few days, cant even sit still anymore!" An elderly woman said gratefully, pressing a small woven scarf into my hands.

"It was nothing," I accepted the gifts with a gracious smile, placing them in the [Hoard]. They weren't surprised to see me do it, having done so many times before. At first, they were wary of magic, but over time and several healed patients, they started to come 'round."Take care of yourselves."

"They really like you," Ciri said, walking beside me as she watched my interactions with the village. The way she said it sounded like there was more to it. I assumed it was because it reminded her of her grandmother, who she spoke highly of during the times we talked over the last few days.

"That's what happens when you give people food and heal their wounds while asking for little in return. I wouldn't put too much stock in it, though." I shrugged nonchalantly. "One moment they might revere you, the next they might go against you for not reaching their expectation, you know?"

She blinked, thinking about it much more deeply than I actually meant it. Before she could press further though, we had already reached the clearing I picked out to place the House. Raising my hand, I extended my palm for — completely unnecessary flair — summoning the home similarly to how I would summon something from the [Hoard].

A large, sleek, modern house — by my standards— materialised in the clearing. From what I could see and sense, it was three floors, with an attic and a basement. The front lawn was lush and neatly trimmed, a concrete driveway leading to a two-car garage. Behind the house, a sprawling backyard stretched out, complete with a large greenhouse full of some normal fruits and vegetables.

I couldn't sense the ward or shield that was surrounding it, but my enhanced senses noticed the lack of moving blades of grass when a slight breeze moved past us, making the leaves of the trees around us flutter.

Much like my connection to the [Hoard], I had a connection to the house, no, Den. I could change it in some ways. Add or remove floors and rooms, add a laboratory, change furniture, the list went on, but honestly, I was more focused on the fact that I had an indestructible [Den] I could summon anywhere I went. And this was the cheapest version of that [Essences]. I can see why I was only given two of them when I was transmigrated, and even those two were more than necessary to get to the top of my verse.

"Home sweet home," I said, genuinely satisfied, turning to the group as I gestured toward the indestructible building. "Welcome to the Dragon's Den. Come on in. Let's get some food."

Opening the way past the white picket gate on the front path, I placed the Mustang on the driveway with a dismissive gesture as we walked to the front door.

God I loved that car.

"Car?" I heard Geralt ask Yennefer as we reached the door.

"Indeed," She responded in a tone that even sounded like a smirk.

The interior of the house was as impressive as the exterior, blending comfort and practicality. The open-concept living room featured plush couches, a large fireplace, and a wall-mounted television. A spacious kitchen with stainless steel appliances and sleek countertops was just off to the side. I led them on a quick tour, pointing out the guest rooms on the second floor. Each room was well-furnished, with comfortable beds, private bathrooms, and large closets.

"This one's yours, Ciri," I told the ashen-haired girl, stopping in front of a room with soft blue walls and a large window overlooking the backyard. "Yennefer, Geralt, you can choose any of the others. There are plenty."

Yennefer raised an eyebrow, impressed despite herself. "Portable, spacious, and luxurious. Not bad. Why carry around the briefcases if you have this in the first place?"

I shrugged. "I can't exactly carry a house into a city, now can I?"

Once everyone had set down their things, I made my way to the kitchen, rolling up my sleeves only to stop as the house informed me of the different foods it could summon. They all seemed to be based on food from my first world before transmigration, though. No Potter-verse, Bright or Witcher food. "Well, you've had enough temple food for one lifetime," I said, walking over to the dining table and taking a seat. "Sit back, and I'll, well, the house, will make us something much better."

With a mental request, the table was suddenly filled with an extravagant spread of food seamlessly from out of nowhere—roast meats, fresh vegetables, steaming soups, fragrant breads, and pastries. Without missing a beat, I picked up a plate and began casually serving myself as though this were the most ordinary thing in the world. "Eat up."

Yennefer blinked, her eyes darting between me and the table of food as I continued eating for a moment before she let out a soft huff and began filling her plate. "One of these days," I heard her mutter under her breath as she tried to sense the non-existent magic I used like she does every time I would put and take something out of the [Hoard].

Geralt and Ciri exchanged glances before shrugging and digging in as well, the aroma of the feast quickly overpowering any lingering questions. We shared some small talk about training, magic, and their plans for the week as we ate. Midway through the meal, while Geralt and Ciri were talking about Witcher related stories, Yennefer set her fork down, violet eyes focusing on on mine. "This house," She began, gesturing vaguely. "There's a magical shield surrounding it, isn't there?"

I wouldn't say it was magical, not even I could sense it through magic, or [The Force] for that matter. I just knew it was there. Regardless, I nodded, momentarily placing my own fork down. "There is."

Yennefer's brow furrowed. "I couldn't sense it in the slightest, much like with your… hoard. Even when I stepped through the gates, I didn't feel any magic. But unlike your hoard, I would imagine I would sense something. So what's the difference?"

"Not even I can sense it. I mean, the hause let me know it's there, and I can shoes what gets in and out, but I can't actually sense it with magic," I explained with a shrug. "It's indestructible, though. Nothing, not even the most powerful magical creatures, can breach it. It's strong enough to withstand the White Frost if it comes to that."

"High praise," Yennefer raised an impressed eyebrow. "I couldn't even detect the house itself from outside the fence, let alone the shield. You've outdone yourself. You wouldn't mind if I tested it like I did the briefcase wards, would you?"

"Sure," I agreed, going back to my food with a faint smirk on his face. "It's the greatest house in the universe. If you could get through the briefcase, you wouldn't stand a chance against the Den. But feel free to give it your best shot."

"Oh, I plan to." She said, accepting the challenge with a chuckle, shaking her head as she returned to her meal.

Once we had finished eating, Yennefer, Geralt, and Ciri decided to enjoy the baths in their rooms. I couldn't even blame them. The prospect of relaxing in a bath set to the perfect temperature by a house that gives you what you want was too tempting to pass up. On the other hand, I excused myself and headed to the basement to get back to work.

The basement walls were lined with neatly organised shelves and workbenches, ready for use. Walking to the centre, I placed the Forerunner terminal I had purchased from the points I had earned helping the villagers, its sleek, alien design glowing faintly with ethereal blue light as the [Den] accommodated by connecting, providing it with power. I was sure to purchase the version that included cables and plugs that were compatible with 21st-century tech and connections.

Approaching it, I retrieved the only other purchase I made since arriving in the verse from the [Hoard], a data chip. Specifically, a chip containing Cortana's AI code. Placing the chip into one of the terminal's data slots, I stepped back as the terminal hummed. Her blue-white circuit-patterned, holographic figure flickered into existence above the terminal.

Her smooth and melodic voice rang out. "Quando il gioco è finito, il re e il pedone vanno nella stessa scatola."

"Indeed." I nodded, a faint smile playing on his lips as I remembered that was her first words in the games. "Welcome to the Den, Cortana. I am Lord Johnathan Grey, but you can call me boss."

The AI turned to face me, her holographic eyes studying me intently. "Thank you, boss," She finally said in gratitude after a moment. "What can I do for you?"

"Teach me," I said. Two simple words, but words that would have me learn everything she has ever learned from every single terminal she had ever been connected to. Considering the version of the chip I had purchased — that being the endgame Halo 4 Hard Light using version — I was going to be learning a lot. It was a shame the [Den] only provided 'basic' levels of power. I'd have loved to see Hard Light in action.

But that was the next project after pilfering Halo knowledge from my new, completely loyal AI anyway.

Cortana tilted her head thoughtfully. "What do you want to learn, boss?"

I couldn't hide the grin threatening to split my face even if I tried as I answered, leaning forward and giving her my undivided attention. I could feel her code going up to the TV in the living room and the computers in the studies through [The Force] thanks to [Mechu Deru], but I didn't stop her, I didn't even care. After all, I was about to get my hands on…

"...Everything."

[P]-[W]-[M]

"If I have to choose between one evil and another, I prefer not to choose at all."

—Geralt of Rivia.

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Hello There

If Science can have a super soldier serum, I don't see any reason mages can't have a potion version of it too.

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