The Bark and the Blade
Cuco stood alone in the center of the training hall.
Once, this place had echoed with laughter, sparring cries, and the clatter of wooden swords.
Now, it was silent.
He knelt before the Tome.
The spell was divided into three commands:
Etch. Nourish. Bind.
Cuco did not hesitate.
He drew a blade across his palm.
Let the blood fall, hot and steady, onto the waiting page.
The chamber shuddered.
The Tome drank eagerly, its parchment rippling like breath on the surface of water. From the center, something rose—
A root.
Black as cinder. Twisted and jagged, like bark carved into the shape of a blade.
It pulsed.
It breathed.
And Cuco reached out.
The root screamed at his touch.
So did he.
It fused with his hand—coiling upward, burning into his skin, binding to the mark etched along his arm. The pain wasn't just fire.
It was hunger.
The weapon didn't exist to be wielded.
It demanded to be fed.
---
Isabela burst into the hall moments later, Nox and Tariq right behind her.
"Cuco—what have you done?" she shouted.
He turned.
The blade extended from his wrist—half-living wood, its edge glinting with the sickly green hue that Hollow Ones bled when they died.
Nox flinched.
"That's not channeling. That's wild magic. The kind that devours."
"I didn't summon it," Cuco said.
"The Tome did."
Tariq's voice was quiet.
"Then it chose you. Made you its bearer."
Cuco nodded slowly.
"I don't think I can let it go."
---
That night, the blade throbbed in time with Cuco's heartbeat.
He sat just beyond the Circle's border, beneath the silver hush of moonlight. The forest stirred like something half-asleep… or half-awake.
Cuco spoke to the blade—not in command.
In confession.
"I don't want to hurt them."
The bark shivered.
Softly.
Amused.
Behind him, Tariq approached, footsteps light on the grass.
"It's not just a weapon, is it?"
Cuco didn't turn.
"It's alive."
Tariq hesitated.
"Do you control it?"
Cuco stared at his hand, the bark creeping past his elbow.
"That's not the question," he murmured.
"The question is whether it controls me."
---
That night, the blade whispered.
Not with words.
With sensation.
> Blood wakes the door.
Cuco woke gasping.
The bark had crept farther—past his shoulder now, spidering across his chest like roots seeking soil.
And deep in the forest, far beyond the Circle's reach—
Something ancient stirred.
And smiled.