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Luka's earliest memory is of being called by a name that never fit him, of being shaken awake gently by his mother, told to "get up, we're moving again today".
He had lived his whole childhood on the road with his family - mother, father, three sisters - two older ones and his twin - plus a few hens they'd kept for eggs and a friendly old wolfhound. Along with a close-knit group of a few other families, they had traveled the roads of the Continent, from the Korath Desert to Poviss and from coastal Cidaris to Kaedwen. His father - a stout, kindly dark-haired man with a curly mustache, already balding in only his early forties - peddled miscellaneous wares, and his mother - her face more weathered by the sun and wind than suited her years, long red hair shot with silver - brewed cordials from wild fruits they gathered along the way. His oldest sister - plump like their father, and just as dark of hair - mended clothes for the residents of the villages they stayed near, and his middle sister - tall and slender, with their mother's wide dark-grey eyes - sold flowers for a bit of extra coin.
Luka himself had still been too young to be of much use the last time they'd been passing through Kaedwen. The past year had been rough, he knew, and his parents struggled to provide for him and his sisters. Compounding the difficulties they already faced, his twin had grown desperately ill over the winter, and with the whole family to feed, finding the money to treat her illness had been nearly impossible. Luka reasoned that, with one less mouth to feed, perhaps they could put that coin towards medicine for his twin.
So, hugging his parents a tearful goodbye, he broke from their caravan in a little village in the foothills of the Blue Mountains, with little more than the clothes on his back, and made his way up the mountain paths until the keep came into view.
In later years, he would say his family dumped him at Kaer Morhen, abandoned him. It was easier to pretend they'd sent him away, easier to make it their choice, than it was to explain the truth - he'd sacrificed his childhood to save his sister.
***
He tracked them down his first year on the Path, watching from afar for a time before daring to approach them. His twin had grown healthy again, the hardships of their earlier years forgotten, and flitted to and fro with what he gathered from his oldest sister's sewing of a fine gown and veil to be excitement for her impending wedding.
Luka smiled to himself, hiding his face under his hood, and slipped into the campsite between the wagons:
"Wouldn't happen to be room for an itinerant monster slayer in your camp, would there?"
His mother, nearly blind now with cataracts, started from her seat when he spoke.
"You sound familiar, master witcher, but I can't quite place your voice."
He tossed his hood back, grinning:
"It's me, Mama. Your son, Luka."
She drew close and cupped his face in her hands:
"Oh, it is you! My little boy, all grown up!"
His twin stopped in her tracks to stare at him, dark eyes wide, strands of her hair - so like his own in color - swept across her face by the breeze, and breathed:
"Luka?"
Her face lit up and she ran to embrace him, letting him sweep her up and spin her around, both of them laughing breathlessly. When he set her down, she swatted playfully at his shoulder:
"When did my baby brother grow to be so tall?"
He pressed a hand to his chest, affecting an offended air:
"Baby?!? I'm only five minutes younger than you, thank you very much!"
"Oh, but you'll stay for my wedding, won't you? Say you will, please?"
"Alright, alright," he laughed, "you don't have to beg! I wouldn't miss it for the world."
His mother took him by the arm and led him to sit down near his oldest sister, who finally chimed in:
"We simply must hear all of your adventures since you left us, brother."
"Well, there's not much to tell yet - I've only just started my first year on the Path - but I can tell you about the friends I've made…"
They talked late into the night - him spinning tales of his new friends and all that had befallen him in the years since they'd parted ways and his family listening closely to his stories and asking for more details.