The White Witchers Three

[===== One Year Later =====]

     Although the previous trials Troy had faced were deadly, he wasn't worried at all as he went through this extra trial. Having been through two already, having made substantial advancements in his magical learning, and having learned quite a bit about the specific effects of the mutagens used in the concoctions, he was well prepared for that one and he suspected that it would take less than a day for him to pass it.

     While the process hadn't gone as smoothly as he'd hoped, he was right and he had come through the final trial in less than a day.

     Despite having cut off all of the feeling from all of his nerves and having laid there limp on the table, he still experienced quite a bit of discomfort once the mutagens took effect. He wasn't entirely sure how or why he was still able to feel discomfort, after cutting off his sense of pain, but he dealt with it easily enough.

     Troy had gone to bed early the night before so he could wake up early that morning and prepare himself. He spent all morning, until they came to get him for the trails, gathering all his Chaos into his heart and trying his best to mold it to the task he had in mind.

     Whenever they had brought him into the room where the trials were conducted, he had instructed the prepared Chaos to follow his blood flow and assist in the coming mutations. Once he was firmly strapped to the table, he then placed a filter in his spinal cord just below his brain stem. This filter ensured that nothing other than oxygen and nutrients could pass through. 

     By the time the mage got around to giving him his injection, Troy was already inside his calm and was monitoring and maintaining his two spells. Not having any neurotransmitters being sent to his heart and lungs, he quickly established a slow and steady rhythm, using his Chaos. Breathe. Beat. Check. Check. Breathe. Beat. Check. Check.

     Given his perfect health and his nearly comatose condition, he didn't need to breathe or have his heart beat that frequently and so he had a bit of time in between to quickly intervene if anything went wrong. 

     About sixteen hours after the trial had started, Troy had successfully finished integrating his mutagens. He had come out of his calm, woken up, and informed the mages of his success. Having gone through such a dramatic change in his biology, he was still dead tired and so they had allowed him to rest.

     All of the mages were completely stunned at Troy's miraculous passage of this trial. They were all aware of the oddity of his earlier successes but this was on a whole new level. It almost seemed as if he had forcibly conquered the mutagens in a matter of hours.

     Despite their overwhelming curiosity and the fact that Troy hadn't so much as made a peep the entire time, they knew that such an event had to have had some type of repercussions. Thus, they left Troy to his recovery, before badgering him.

     Troy had suffered through the mage's questioning for a couple of hours, before Nazad stepped in and ended the whole farce. They were clearly not satisfied with Troy's answers but Nazad knew they weren't going to get anything out of him like that. 

     He was also curious about the event but their approach was too obvious. Nazad knew sussing out Troy's secrets would require a much subtler approach, one where Nazad himself held the advantage.

     Nearly a year after that last trial, Nazad and Troy were inside Nazad's office. All was quiet, as Troy was attempting to perform his first enchantment.

     "Good! The sphere is thoroughly saturated with Chaos but remember it must resonate with the sphere's natural frequency. Once the sphere and the Chaos inside it are vibrating at the same frequency, you can then attempt to merge the spell with it. Assuming that the resonance is successful, the spell will then assume the same frequency as the Chaos around it and become one with the sphere."

     Troy had spent several months just familiarizing himself with the natural vibrations of various elements. These weren't something that just anyone could perceive and even mages who weren't conduits may never detect them. Once one obtained a certain resonance with Chaos itself, one could send their own Chaos into an object and discern the subtle vibrations unique to its existence.

     Detecting these vibrations were actually essential to most forms of advanced magic. Because he was still learning, his education had focused primarily on one substance.

     As Troy maintained a certain level of Chaos saturation within the iron sphere, he formed a minor spell that would cause targeted objects to emit a soft glow, in his other hand. Bringing the spell up to the iron sphere he carefully began merging the two together.

     Troy hadn't slacked off in any of his training and had even taken after Geralt's training maniac ways, for short durations. During this past year, he had spent copious amounts of time trying to accurately recreate the natural frequency of iron and he knew it quite well, at this point. 

     Thus, the task before him was actually much easier than what his outward appearance might suggest. Troy had begun to notice that Nazad and the others were increasingly suspicious of his current abilities. They all seemed to think that he was holding back much of his ability and they, of course, were right. 

     Thus, Troy had redoubled his efforts to keep his secrets actually secret. He had already revealed more than he had ever wanted to and, now that all of his mutation trials had been passed, he had absolutely no plans to reveal anything more.

      With an intense and determined expression on his face, Troy finally got the spell into the sphere and watched as it trembled ever so slightly and then began emitting a soft green glow. This enchanting business was actually genuinely difficult for Troy, just not as difficult as he made it appear.

     He always made sure to give the impression that his lessons were extremely difficult and only to show improvements slowly over time. This time was no exception for, as soon as he finished his enchantment, he immediately let the sphere fall to the table and fell back into his seat.

     With an excited yet fatigued expression, Troy looked up at Nazad with a slight smile and said, "I did it!"

     Before Troy could turn and see Nazad's excited face he quickly composed himself and responded, "Hmmm…" Nazad, hummed as he picked up the newly enchanted sphere and examined it. "Yes, you did do it...barely. But you are young and so I suppose it's to be expected. You've done well enough, with this exercise, but don't get complacent. You've still got a long way to go."

     Nazad took out another iron sphere, from somewhere within his robes, and placed it upon the table in front of Troy.

     "Here. Take a moment to draw in more Chaos and, once you have enough, do it again." Nazad curtly instructed, before returning to his experiments.

     Troy spent the better part of an hour pretending to collect Chaos from the surrounding elements, before beginning his enchantment of the second sphere. Of course, Troy had his source organs and, if he desired, could have conjured up his own Chaos right then and there. Doing so, however, would have revealed far more off his secrets than he was willing to divulge. 

     Also, it wasn't as if he could do this endlessly. Conjuring his own Chaos, via his source organs, would eventually cause him a terrific amount of psychological stress and possibly even migraines and nosebleeds, if he wasn't careful. However, Troy's mental fortitude was nothing to laugh at, as he could manifest quite a sizable amount of Chaos, if he needed to.

     He had reached a new level of control and mental fortitude, whenever he had finally tamed the emotions born from his source organs. Although, the unique nature of his source organs provided him with a constant source of stress that he could use to train both his control and mental fortitude. Thus, he knew that, as long as he continued with his meditations and magic practice, these attributes would only increase with time. 

     His passing of the third administration of mutagens, along with Geralt and Jorgen, had given his overall condition a moderate boost in performance. All of the enhancements from the previous mutagens saw mild to moderate upgrades.

     He was actually quite satisfied with his physical prowess so far, even if he still had quite a bit of training to do, he now had a strong and stable physical foundation which he could build upon. He would probably get into some kind of body enhancing magic eventually but, with all the benefits he'd received from his trials, he could safely set that aside and focus on more spellcasty forms of magic.

     There was very little about the last trial that surprised Troy, other than Jorgen's unexpected participation. Both Geralt and Troy had tried talking Jorgen out of it but he refused to listen. It wasn't an option for Geralt and Troy, although seeming a bit brash in the eyes of others, could legitimately say he had magic on his side. Jorgen, however, had no such excuses. He was simply stubbornly refusing to allow the two of them to surpass him.

     Just before Troy had been guided to his table, he had quickly cast a silent spell on Jorgen. It was intended to do what Troy had always done to integrate his mutagens but, of course, such a casual feat was completely beyond his level and so he had no way of knowing whether or not it had worked. All he knew was that Jorgen had survived but the mutagens had left him in a state similar to Coen, with permanently bloodshot eyes and slightly reduced vision compared to Geralt and Troy.

     Thus, the conclusion of those particular trials resulted in three white haired witchers having been born into the world as a completely new and superior breed of witcher. The three of them had only grown closer, since that last trial, and they were all confident, though not carelessly so, in their ability to pass the Trial of the Mountain. 

     They practiced relentlessly and casually worked their way through every caste of Endrega, during their monster fights. Even the Endrega Queens eventually fell beneath their strong bodies and well trained blades.

     Geralt had revealed recently that he had another friend who slept in the same room as him even though he was a year behind him. His name was Eskel and Troy immediately wanted to kick himself for having completely forgotten about Eskel.

     Although, to be fair, Kaer Morhen wasn't exactly a place for self reflection or reminiscing. It was a nonstop training ride and so Eskel had naturally not been prominent in his mind as he focused on more important things. Plus, being childhood friends with Geralt, it was pretty much inevitable that Eskel would have come into the picture at some point.

     Eskel hadn't gone through the extra trial but he was still a talented witcher and Troy already knew he would do well in the future. Thus, it wasn't entirely important to him to try and bring him into the fold. He and Geralt would always be friends and so it wasn't like he needed to worry about the kid running off, or something.

     After completing his nightly training with Nazad, Troy returned completely exhausted to his sleeping quarters and wanted to simply pass out right then. His body needed as much rest as it could get given the rigorous training he was putting himself through.

     As he walked in he noticed Jorgen trying his best to exercise in silence so as to not disturb the others. Although Geralt slept in a different room, both he and Jorgen had taken to keeping up their training, until Troy returned from his own training. They both seemed to take it somewhat personally that he was not only the best witcher trainee but also a talented mage trainee that all the mages seemed to respect.

     They weren't holding a petty grudge. They were simply insistent upon taking Troy's place as top witcher trainee, as they took it as a matter of personal pride that a sorcerer would not only wield powers more potent than they ever could but also beat them at their own game.

     Geralt and Jorgen didn't have any magical studies to distract them and so felt it was only right that one of them hold the position of top witcher trainee. Troy, of course, had given up his attempts to keep up with their mad training regiment but that didn't mean he was going to make things easier for them. If they wanted his spot, they could have it, after they bested him at his best. 

     Troy was no slouch and even with his sorcerer training as a distraction he still managed to barely hold on to the number one slot during this past year. He knew that his mutagens, having been perfectly integrated, were at least partly to blame for this but skill, talent, and practice could eventually close any gap created by biological differences.

     There were only two years left before the Trial of the Mountain and he was certain that one of them would finally overtake him, before it arrived. He wasn't mad about this and, if anything, he was proud to have such hard working and dedicated friends.

     After arriving at his cot, he sat down beside it and entered a meditative state inside his calm. During the next hour, he would do his secret magical training wherein he took the concepts he learned, during his classes with Nazad, and reworked them into an exercise that he could throw all of his remaining Chaos at before sleeping.

     Tonight's exercise was a simple silencing spell that he would enchant into every bit of iron in the room. Performing any type of magic at a distance was always harder than doing it right under your nose. Thus, he would not only train up his enchanting skills but also familiarize himself with the difficulties of casting magic at a distance.

     An hour later, Troy had finally expended all of his Chaos and had laid down to sleep. All of his training and education had been going rather splendidly so far and he couldn't wait to pass his final witcher trial and go out into the world to slay a few monsters, before refocusing all his efforts into his sorcerer training.

[===== Two Years Later =====]

     Commander Horace, Vesemir, Dorden, and three white haired witcher trainees were following a little used path, leading north from Kaer Morhen, that wound its way all the way to the top of a small foothill.

     Once they had reached the summit, Commander Horace addressed the trainees assembled before him, "Listen up, Witchers, because that's what each of you are as of this moment. There's no guarantee that any of you will survive this next trial but you've already survived more than most men will face in a lifetime. 

     "This is, as you know, the final trial. The Trial of the Mountain. If you survive, then you will be allowed to walk away from this place and take your title of Witcher with you out into the world. 

     "However, if you do not survive, know that you died as a witcher. A rare and impressive specimen of mankind but also greater than mankind. A breed of human so exceedingly rare that one is more likely to swim the entire span of the seas than walk through the hell that you all have traversed.

     "Whatever fate may befall you, never doubt for a second that each one of you is a man of greatness.

     "Now, Dorden, you take Jorgen off to the right. Vesemir, you take Geralt off to the left path. Troy, follow me."