The Bark and the Blade
Cuco stood alone at the center of the training hall—a place once full of laughter, sparring, and the clatter of wooden swords.
Now, only silence remained.
He knelt before the Tome.
The spell was divided into three commands: Etch. Nourish. Bind.
Cuco didn't falter.
He drew a knife across his palm. Let blood fall onto the open page.
The chamber trembled.
The Tome drank it eagerly, its parchment rippling like it was alive. From the center, something sprouted—
A root.
Black as ash. Jagged. Rising like a blade carved from twisted bark and bone.
Cuco reached out.
The root screeched at his touch.
So did he.
It fused with his hand, coiling upward, locking into his skin with a hiss, entwining the old mark on his arm. The agony wasn't just physical.
It was hunger.
The weapon didn't simply exist to be wielded.
It demanded to be fed.
---
Isabela stormed into the hall moments later, with Nox and Tariq on her heels.
"Cuco—what have you done?" she cried.
He turned to face them.
From his wrist, the wooden blade extended—faintly glowing with the sickly green sheen that Hollow Ones bled when they fell.
Nox staggered back. "That's not ordinary magic. That's wild magic. The kind that devours."
"I didn't call it," Cuco replied. "The Tome brought it forth."
Tariq's voice dropped. "It chose you. It made you its bearer."
Cuco gave a slow nod.
"I don't think I can let it go."
That night, the blade throbbed with every beat of Cuco's heart.
He sat beyond the Circle's border, beneath the moon, watching the forest shift like a sleeping beast.
He spoke softly to the weapon, as if it could listen.
"I don't want to hurt them."
The blade shivered faintly.
Almost as if amused.
Behind him, Tariq's steps were gentle on the grass. "It's not just a weapon, is it?"
Cuco didn't turn. "It's something more. It's alive."
"Do you command it?"
Cuco's voice was low. "That's not the real question."
He looked at his hand.
"The question is whether it commands me."
While the others slept, the blade whispered into Cuco's dreams.
Not in voice.
In sensation.
> "Blood wakes the door."
Cuco woke with a start.
The bark had crept farther up his arm.
And deep in the woods, something ancient stirred—
Smiling.