The last thing he felt was the blinding glare of high-beams and the screech of tires. He was a college student with a backpack full of textbooks and a future erased in a sickening crunch of bone and metal. Darkness followed, but only for a heartbeat.
The silence was shattered by a sharp, cold wind and the smell of brine. He felt giant, calloused hands lift him into the air.
"A boy, Marek! Look at the lungs on him!" a woman's voice cried out. A translucent blue screen flickered into his mind.
SYSTEM BINDING: COMPLETE
Host Name: Aris | Location: Blaviken | Year: 1200
Core Objective: Become a Human Sage.
He was in the Witcher World, just six years after the Sacking of Kaer Morhen in 1194. The Witcher schools were ruins; the "monsters" were now being hunted by angry mobs and soldiers instead of professionals.
The Red Ague turned their hut into a tomb. Aris's father, Marek, lay on the straw pallet, his lungs so full of fluid he was effectively drowning on dry land. His jaw was locked tight in a fever-chill.
Aris accessed the Harry Potter System and exchanged his points for Dittany Seeds. He grew them in the dirt under his bed, but the hard part wasn't the magic—it was the medicine.
Aris didn't have a cup or a spoon. He used a heavy river stone to grind the silver leaves into a thick, oily paste. It smelled like burning pepper.
Marek was unconscious, his teeth clenched shut. A six-year-old's hands were too weak to pry a fisherman's jaw open. Aris grabbed a small wooden wedge used for mending the table and carefully hammered it between Marek's back molars.
If Aris just dumped the paste in, his father would choke and die. Aris had to use his small fingers to scoop the burning paste and smear it against the inside of the cheeks and under the tongue.
Dittany is absorbed through the mucous membranes. As the paste touched the tissue, it began to sizzle. Aris then took a small leather waterskin and squeezed a few drops of water into Marek's nose. The reflex made Marek gasp and swallow, forcing the concentrated magical herb down his throat.
The reaction was violent. Marek's body arched, his skin turning a deep, angry crimson as the Dittany's magical heat incinerated the bacteria. A moment later, his father rolled over and vomited a mass of black, foul-smelling phlegm—the "root" of the Ague—onto the floor.
His breathing instantly cleared.
QUEST COMPLETE: The First Seed.
Reward: 50 Points.
Unlocked: Magical Creature Egg (Phoenix) — Locked (Cost: 500 Points).
Aris slumped back, his fingers tingling from the herb's power. He was a child in a world that hated magic, but he now knew the Harry Potter system could bridge the gap where the Witchers had failed.
The sudden recovery of a man on his deathbed was not seen as a medical success; in the year 1206, in a superstitious backwater like Blaviken, it was seen as an omen.
When Hana returned from the well, the hut was silent. She expected the silence of a morgue, but instead, she found the "Red Ague" bile splattered across the floor and Marek sitting upright, gasping for air like a man surfacing from deep water.
"Marek?" she whispered, the wooden bucket clattering to the floor, spilling precious water across the threshold.
"The fire..." Marek croaked, his voice raw but clear of the death-rattle. "Hana, my chest... the fire is gone."
Hana rushed to him, pressing her hands to his forehead. The skin that had been baking like a clay oven an hour ago was now cool and damp with a healthy sweat. She began to weep, crossing herself and muttering prayers to Lebioda, believing a miracle had descended upon their wretched home.
However, the relief was short-lived. Marek looked down at his hands and then at the floor. He saw the remains of the silver-green pulp Aris hadn't been able to clean up in time. It didn't look like any herb found in Redania. It smelled of ozone and scorched earth.
He looked toward the corner of the room, where six-year-old Aris sat perfectly still, his eyes too bright, too knowing.
"Aris," Marek rumbled, his voice trembling with a mix of gratitude and a deep, ancestral fear. "What did you do, boy?"
Hana followed her husband's gaze. She saw the green stains on Aris's small fingers—stains that seemed to pulse with a faint, fading light. She remembered the stories of the Source, of children who could tap into the Chaos and bring either ruin or healing. With the Witcher Schools destroyed and the mages hunted, a child with power was not a blessing; he was a death warrant for the whole family.
"I found a leaf," Aris said, his voice carefully high-pitched and innocent, hiding the college student's mind within. "In the mud. I gave it to Papa."
Marek looked at the green-stained dirt under Aris's bed where the Dittany had grown. He saw the impossibility of it—a plant flourishing in the dead of winter, inside a dark hut. He stood up, his legs shaky, and walked over to his son. He knelt down and gripped Aris's shoulders with his massive, scarred hands.
"Listen to me," Marek said, his eyes darting to the door to ensure no neighbors were listening. "You speak of this to no one. Not the priest, not the neighbors, not the Ealdorman. You found nothing. You did nothing. The gods simply saw fit to spare me."
Hana nodded fervently, her face pale. "If the King's men hear of a healer-child, they'll take you to Aretuza or worse, Aris. We say it was a miracle of Lebioda. Nothing more."
System Notification:
Relationship Shift: Parents (Marek & Hana)
Status: Protective / Fearful.
Hidden Perk Gained: [Secret Keeper] – Your family will now actively help hide your "Sage" activities from the village.
Aris nodded, realizing the burden of his path. To guide the world to the right path, he first had to survive the ignorance of it. He looked at his father—the man he had just saved—and saw the fear in his eyes. It was a fear Aris would have to spend the next few decades turning into hope.