—
"So. Cerys, is it? Gustave's betrothed? Tell me—have you seen Geralt anywhere on Skellige?"
"Aye, Lady Yennefer. I'm Cerys, betrothed to Gustave. And aye, Geralt's on Hindarsfjall at the moment—him, Ciri, Hjalmar, and the rest of the Jarl's grand lads, all takin' part in divin' and swimmin' contest. But… Lady Yennefer, why're you always askin' after him? Oh? Wait. Ahh… Are the two of you fallin' out again? That'd explain it."
"Girl, that's quite enough of your imagination. Now go. Bathe, and see to changing Gustave's clothes—properly, this time. And do not forget to replace his nutrition tubes."
"Hah! I knew it! You two are breakin' up again! How many times now—five, seven? Gods, you're truly suited for each other!"
"I said go. Do not make me repeat myself."
"Aye, aye, Lady Yennefer… Hehehe, Ciri will be delighted with this news…"
Rubbing her forehead as the seven-year-old girl slipped into the patient room, Yennefer couldn't help but mutter, "Urgh… children… insufferable as ever. Tell me again—why do I bother pushing myself so hard?"
Picking up the data she'd gathered from Gustave, along with the new scientific knowledge Regis had given her three years ago, Yennefer shook her head and whispered to herself, "Anyway… just a little longer… everything I've worked for… soon…"
Looking out the window toward the partially restored Cintrian palace, she continued, "Now… how to handle this? How, exactly, am I supposed to make her back down? A Witcher is not meant to be dragged into petty politics—least of all to babysit nobles or play hired shield."
Then, turning her gaze toward Skellige, she cracked her knuckles in annoyance. "And this idiot… why did he just nod along? What, exactly, did they see in Kaer Morhen that rattled him—"
"Gustave!!! You're awake!!!"
Stunned by the girl's shriek of surprise, Yennefer instantly bolted into the room to see Gustave, who was staring at Cerys in an awkward, uncomfortable silence. But Yennefer saw that Gustave didn't look at Cerys strangely for long—because, as if already knowing what she had done to him, the boy, with the height of an eight-year-old, stood up and walked straight to the mirror.
Looking into eyes of full silver iris, without even a trace of a pupil, Yennefer wanted to say something, anything, to reassure him he was still human. But her tongue caught when she heard him name the new species—one she, with Regis, had helped create.
"Dawnwalker."
Silver irises, retractable brittle nails, and the ability to manipulate the mist surrounding his body—Gustave knew that whatever Yennefer and Regis had done to him had made him resemble a Witcher.
But because the majority of the DNA came from Regis himself, rather than giving him cat-like eyes like a Witcher, he had silver irises without pupils, turning him into a being that was neither vampire nor human, but something in between.
Seeing irises reminiscent of Coen, the protagonist of the unreleased game Blood of Dawnwalker, Gustave finally understood what the Ammurun tribes—who sailed beyond the Great Sea to a land resembling a Mongolian continent fused with a Vatican-like culture due to the Conjunction—might be capable of.
But he knew he still had business on the Northern Continent, so he pushed thoughts of that expedition to the back of his mind and focused instead on what he had gained by becoming blood brothers with Regis.
Because most of the Higher Vampire DNA had been destroyed while fighting the madness that had seeped into his mind and body, he possessed only a diluted version of Coen's abilities. More accurately, he did not fully have the abilities of a Higher Vampire, nor was he close to a Dawnwalker—or, in his Earth language, a Dhampir.
For one, Planeshift—an ability that allowed a Dawnwalker to move like mist for several meters before exhaustion, while Higher Vampires could flow through mist as easily as a human swims—had become, for him, merely the ability to control a small amount of mist or gas around his body.
The second, Shadowstep, which in a normal Dawnwalker allowed walking across ceilings as naturally as walking on the floor—and which Higher Vampires used to traverse lands with wildly twisting gravitational pulls due to their origin on a planet-asteroid with unstable gravity—became, in his diluted form, only a minor manipulation of gravity around his skin.
The third, Burning Blood, a hex-like technique and essentially a weaker form of Higher Vampire Blood Magic—where normal Dawnwalkers could cast curses at the cost of their own blood or communicate with the dead, similar to what Yennefer did with Skjall in The Witcher 3—was reduced even further in his case.
He could only sense the patterns within blood. Higher Vampires, by contrast, could wield it like Katara's bloodbending in Avatar, or enchant structures such as the blood-sealed door of Tesham Mutna.
As for the last two abilities—the Focus Mode, akin to Witcher Senses—it was redundant for him. He already possessed an extraordinary version of the [Knowledge] ability from becoming a Beyonder, so he hardly spared it a thought.
Even the claw-forming nails were reduced to such a brittle, watered-down state that they were useless as weapons, unlike those of Higher Vampires or normal Dawnwalkers, which could essentially become wolverine-like claws—or, more accurately, a five-clawed Sabretooth version.
And considering that the Dawnwalker was essentially the same type of vampire found in Earth's legends, it meant he now needed to drink blood just to stave off hunger—unlike Higher Vampires, for whom blood was merely another beverage.
But even with this watered-down version of a Dawnwalker, Gustave looked at himself with amusement and giddiness.
While controlling only a little mist around his body, manipulating a small amount of gravity with the touch of his skin, and using blood magic that could only sense patterns in blood—abilities utterly useless to ordinary people—for him, they were invaluable.
Because for him, combined with his modern scientific knowledge, his status as a Beyonder of the Paragon Pathway, and his trickle of Elder Blood magical affinity, this seemingly ordinary power became a godsend.
Because now… now he knew for certain how to create his own version of magic: Steam Magic.
Lifting his hands toward the mirror and commanding the gas in the air to collide, Gustave didn't need the [Knowledge] ability to see the mist forming on his fingers.
Laughing maniacally, almost as if wanting to kiss the Devil and the Winter Queen for essentially creating an opportunity for Regis and Yennefer to work together to resolve the insane number of curses on his body, to the point of creating a creation equal to that of Alzu's Witcher creation.
Gustave pushed that thought to the back of his mind when he saw Yennefer and Cerys watching him worriedly, probably linking his maniacal laughter to the transformation of becoming a Dawnwalker.
Knowing that there were probably residues of his wrath and anger after being stuck in bed for two whole years, while everything around him had descended into chaos, Gustave shook his head and lightly slapped his cheeks to return himself to the world of the living once more.
All in all, staring at his silver irises, he knew that the creation of a new Dawnwalker would bring complications down the line, especially given the likelihood that more vampiric creations would eventually be born into the world.
But he also knew he couldn't stop Regis from being excited—eager to share with his brethren a method to continue their dying species, born in fixed numbers and plagued by extremely low fertility, even worse than the elves.
Gustave simply accepted this development as he would any other day, since, in the end, Regis had been his benefactor time and time again, saving him from losing himself to insanity, to the point that he had now become Regis blood brother.
So he prepared himself for what was to come, choosing not to blame his blood-brother, who was probably giggling like a little boy at that very moment, ready to teach his fellow vampires a method of procreation with another species without considering what it might mean for the future of humanity. After all, Regis was simply too excited to think that far ahead.
"Dawnwalker… yeah? What a good name…"
Coming out of her thoughts, knowing this was likely to happen after Regis had said Gustave would become the first-ever vampire not born from a vampire species, Cerys remembered the plea Queen Meve had made to her—to take good care of him even after he woke up.
With an audible gulp, still scared after hearing all kinds of Continental stories about vampires, Cerys offered her neck, lowering her fur collar.
She said, "Gustave… are ye hungry? Would ye… take a bit of my blood? Here—ye can have it. Regis said it's needed for ye, like… like a human's meal. No, that's not what I meant… you're human. So… it's like proper food. Yes, that's it—proper food. It'll do ye good, I think."
Looking at Cerys oddly—despite finding her neck tantalizingly delicious—Gustave merely shook his head, chuckled, and said, "Don't worry. I can still manage. I'll tell you when I need blood."
"Hufft… what a relief…"
Watching her with amusement—because once she tasted his fangs, he suspected she wouldn't get enough of it, given how addictive his saliva had become—Gustave pushed that thought aside and tore a sheet from his bed to make himself a blindfold.
After tying it on, he bowed ninety degrees to Yennefer, then straightened and said, "Lady Yennefer, I thank you for everything you've done for me these past three years. If you need anything—no, if you want correspondence without a title on your papers—just ask for me. I will do my best to repay you. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to meet the maids I injured."
"Now, now… don't be so quick to run off. I'll let you go once I'm certain everything's in order. Come here—let's see if you're ready to be released from my care."
"Alright… mind's steady, no curses lingering. Your body's adapted well—expected, given how much magic you've been exposed to. Strength is about twice that of a grown man, though still far from a Witcher. You can't cast, but you can move mist a little. And that odd pattern in your blood… interesting."
"You know, you'd take to Ritualistic Magic quite nicely. But listen carefully, boy—if you ever get the idea to poke around Goetia, you won't need your mother to set you straight. I'll do it myself."
Knowing she had no idea about his Beyonder abilities or his evolution to the 8th Sequence—making his body far more adaptable, and confirming that Regis hadn't mentioned his crafted Beyonder background to her—Gustave took the chance to act a little more freely.
He nodded like a good little boy and teased her age, saying, "Alright, alright, I understand, Granny Yennefer."
"You little shit—did you seriously just say that to me?!"
Immediately grabbing Cerys by the head and pulling her along, Gustave barked, "Duck!"
Bang! Clank, clank!
The two of them ducked and sprinted out of the room, laughing maniacally as they fled from the incensed sorceress, whose hair was whipping wildly in every direction.
—
References may break immersion. Just go ahead to the next chapter.
—
References
—
Everything about the Dawnwalker comes from the fandom pages, trailers, and beta gameplay of the unreleased game. The only change is that they're no longer an Earth-based version of vampires, but an Ammurun tribe that traveled to the lands beyond the Great Sea to fit the narrative.
Their vampire-like ability to move like Spider-Man comes from a form of gravity manipulation, since they live in a world filled with twisting and ambiguous gravitational forces—much like the cave of the Unseen Elder—which pushed their evolution to the point where they can channel gravity through their feet, letting them cling to ceilings like a bat.
—