Adventure of Pando 1

Pando secures the blue-wax warning packet beneath his cloak and carries the monastery map in his other hand. Tessa, Brother Oren, and Davren follow him toward the ash-marked stair, while Caldus remains behind at the spring route.

The stair climbs through damp stone toward the monastery archive. As the packet crosses the first ash sigil, pale lines flare along the walls, and a ward seals the passage below.

Three measured knocks echo ahead. Tessa keeps close to Pando, while Davren raises the monastery map toward a narrow barred door set into the stair’s upper landing.

A middle-aged elf woman steps behind the bars, lean and severe, with ash-gray hair braided over a dark green robe and a silver scar across her brow.

Elian studies Pando through the bars, then looks to the blue-wax packet beneath his cloak. Her severe expression eases into wary recognition.

She draws a ring of ash across the floor. The barred door unlocks, and the warding lines along the stair fade into a quiet silver glow.

The door opens onto the monastery archive. Beyond the shelves, Elian’s offered chamber provides both privacy and a controlled place to study Pando’s curse before the packet changes hands.

Elian leads Pando beyond the archive shelves into a round stone chamber. Ash-filled grooves form three circles across the floor, while Tessa, Oren, and Davren remain at the threshold as witnesses.

Pando reaches inward. The curse gathers as a red-black lattice beneath his awareness, but the ash circles catch its pressure before it can draw from his body.

The lattice contracts into a small, stable knot of shadow. Its hunger remains perceptible, yet no strength leaves Pando as he guides the excess into the ash-marked groove and dismisses the form.

Pando closes his eyes and reaches through the shadow magic focus. The curse answers, gathering at his shoulder in a red-black spiral that strains against the chamber’s ash circles.

A wing begins to unfold, but its feathers form unevenly, dissolving into loose strands before the structure can support itself. The ash grooves flare and catch the failing shape.

The half-formed wing folds sharply inward. Shadow spills into the outer circle, leaving a dark feather-like mark in the ash instead of a usable limb.

The chamber settles, though the ash-marked outline remains fixed on the floor. Elian kneels beside it, revealing a precise starting point for the next examination.

Pando steadies the shadow magic focus and reaches toward the dark feather-mark in the ash. The curse gathers cleanly at his shoulder, following the remembered pattern.

A single feather-like shape unfolds beside him, dark and layered, its curved barbs held in a stable fan. It remains suspended without drawing from his body.

The feather’s red-black edges sharpen while its base stays anchored near Pando’s shoulder. Fine strands of shadow trace its central shaft, revealing a controlled flow.

The suspended feather flexes within the chamber’s still air, each dark barb responding separately while the ash-marked outline below preserves the successful shape.

Pando guides the manifested feather’s central shaft toward his shoulder. Its dark barbs become a catalyst, drawing the remembered wing-pattern through the stable base without touching his life.

The feather unfolds into a complete wing beside him. Layered shadow-plumes spread in a graceful fan, each joint holding firm while the ash circles remain dim and undisturbed.

The wing flexes once at Pando’s command, then settles close to his back. Its outer feathers respond independently, while the feather-shaped catalyst remains suspended at the base.

A fine ash sigil appears beneath the wing’s anchor, recording its successful structure. Elian studies the mark, then reaches toward a hidden cabinet at the chamber wall.

Pando reaches for the suspended feather. His fingers close around its dark shaft, and the catalyst settles into his hand without resistance.

The feather’s layered barbs fold against his palm, cool as shaded stone. Its central shaft remains firm, carrying a quiet current toward the wing’s anchor.

The wing draws closer to Pando’s back, its outer plumes aligning with the feather in his grasp. The ash sigil brightens, recording the contact rather than resisting it.

Pando flexes his back. The feather catalyst responds in his hand, and the suspended wing unfolds outward in a broad, balanced fan, its layered plumes extending fully without disturbing the ash circles.

The wing stretches farther behind Pando, each dark feather settling into a stable sequence. The catalyst’s shaft warms slightly, carrying the pattern through every joint.

The ash sigil beneath Pando brightens, recording the extended shape. No groove flares, and the chamber remains still except for the wing’s slow, deliberate flex.

Pando flexes the wing through the feather catalyst. The broad shadow-plumes sweep downward, then rise in a smooth, powerful beat, stirring ash across the chamber floor without disturbing the circles.

The motion lifts his shoulder slightly and shifts his balance, but the wing answers as naturally as a practiced limb. Its layered feathers fold and open in a controlled rhythm.

A faint ring of ash lifts from the floor and settles again. The wing remains fully formed, responsive to Pando’s back and the feather held in his hand.

Pando relaxes his back while keeping the feather catalyst steady. The wing folds inward in measured layers, its outer plumes closing close to his shoulders without losing the anchored joint.

He expands it again through the catalyst. The shadow-plumes open smoothly from base to tip, filling the chamber with a controlled rush of air as the ash circles remain undisturbed.

The wing settles half-open behind Pando, each layered feather aligned with the next. The catalyst remains cool in his hand, its current quiet and responsive.

Pando holds the feather catalyst steady and keeps the wing half-open. Its layered plumes remain balanced behind him, neither folding nor spreading, while the ash circles stay dim.

The spell carries a precise cost: the catalyst grows hot against Pando’s palm, and a thin stream of shadow drains from the chamber’s corners into the wing’s anchored joint.

Pando maintains the position as the wing’s outer feathers settle into an even fan. The current through the catalyst steadies, though its heat remains concentrated in his hand.

Pando loosens his fingers around the feather catalyst. It dissolves into a quiet ribbon of shadow, leaving his hand empty while the wing remains anchored behind him.

He shifts his shoulder and rolls it forward. The wing follows naturally, folding its outer plumes close before opening again in a smooth, balanced sweep.

Pando turns his torso, then draws the wing across his balance. Its feathers adjust independently, correcting his posture as though the limb has always belonged to him.

The wing settles half-open at Pando’s back, stable and responsive. The ash circles remain dim, and no shadow drains from the chamber as he continues testing its natural balance.

Pando turns toward Elian while the wing remains half-open behind him. Its feathers hold steady, and the chamber’s ash circles stay quiet.

Elian steps closer to the wing’s anchored base, studying its layered structure without touching it. Tessa watches from the threshold, attentive but silent.

The wing flexes once at Pando’s back, responding to the shift of his shoulders. Elian gestures toward the open space inside the circles, inviting the next question.

Pando draws the compact hilt from beneath his cloak and holds it beside the half-open wing. Its hooked pommel and uneven guard echo the folded shape behind him.

Sister Elian traces the air above the hilt without touching it. The wing answers with one quiet flex, and a faint ash outline forms between its feathers and the hooked pommel.

Pando lowers the compact hilt and lets the half-open wing settle close behind him. Sister Elian considers the request, then turns toward the archive passage.

Elian leads them through the archive and out beneath a weathered stone cloister. Beyond it, the monastery courtyard opens beneath a pale sky, bordered by ash trees and bare practice ground.

Pando reaches through the shadow magic focus and summons the wing again. It unfolds from his shoulder in a broad, balanced fan, its feathers catching the open air.

He launches across the courtyard. The wing beats once, then again, driving him forward as his feet skim over packed earth and his body turns with practiced precision.

Pando races along the cloister, cuts between the ash trees, and crosses the practice ground in a swift arc. The wing corrects every turn, making his movement feel lighter and faster.

Pando completes another circuit and returns to the courtyard’s center without stumbling. The wing folds halfway, then opens again as he shifts his weight and stops cleanly.

Pando bends his knees and springs upward. The wing beats beneath him in a steady rhythm, lifting his body clear of the packed earth as his feet leave the courtyard.

He holds himself above the ground, adjusting the wing’s angle with his shoulders and hips. Each measured beat counters his descent, keeping him suspended in the open air.

Pando remains aloft over the practice ground. The wing’s broad feathers flex in controlled pulses, stirring the ash beneath him while his body stays centered.

Pando steadies the rhythm and holds his hover longer. The courtyard opens beneath him, while the wing answers each correction as naturally as his own breathing.

Pando leans forward by degrees, shifting his shoulders and hips while keeping the wing’s rhythm even. He glides across the practice ground without losing height.

The courtyard stones pass beneath him at a measured pace. Each beat carries him forward, and each small adjustment keeps his body level above the ash-dusted earth.

Pando crosses the open space toward the far cloister, maintaining his hover throughout. The wing flexes with controlled power, its outer feathers adjusting to every shift in direction.

Pando reaches the cloister’s edge at the same height where he began and eases his forward motion without dropping. The wing remains steady behind him, ready for the next command.

Pando draws his shoulders upward and lets the wing deepen its rhythm. His feet leave the courtyard stones, and he rises slowly into the pale air without losing balance.

The ascent remains measured rather than abrupt. Each broad beat of the wing carries him higher while his hips and shoulders keep his body level.

Pando climbs above the cloister roofline, giving the wing room to open fully. Its outer feathers adjust to the thinner air, holding him securely over the courtyard.

Pando eases the wing’s rhythm and settles into a stable hover above the practice ground, high enough to see the ash trees beyond the monastery wall.

Pando leans forward and lengthens the wingbeats. The courtyard slips beneath him as he accelerates into a broad arc above the monastery roofs.

The wing answers each shift of his shoulders, carrying him faster without stealing his balance. He banks around the ash trees and rises clear of their highest branches.

Pando sweeps beyond the courtyard wall, then cuts back across the open grounds. Speed builds with every beat, the air flowing smoothly around the layered feathers.

Pando follows the cloister’s line at a swift height, then circles the practice ground in a clean descending curve. He returns above the courtyard still airborne, faster and fully in command.

Pando folds the wing’s outer feathers and eases into a descending spiral. The courtyard rises beneath him, and he touches down lightly on the ash-dusted practice ground.

The wing settles close behind Pando, its feathers lifting once in the fading air before becoming still. Tessa hurries from the cloister, openly impressed.

Sister Elian approaches the edge of the practice ground and studies the wing’s anchored base. A faint ash sigil remains beneath Pando’s feet, marking the completed flight.

Pando keeps the wing half-open and directs its shadow through the outer feathers. The layered plumes narrow into rigid, angular vanes without losing their balance or drawing from his body.

At his command, the wing sweeps through empty air. Its hardened edges cut a clean arc across the practice ground, scattering ash in a sharp crescent.

Pando folds the sharpened feathers inward, then restores their softer form. The wing remains responsive, proving it can shift between movement and defense by deliberate command.

Pando turns toward an ashen tree and gathers the wing’s outer feathers into narrow, rigid shapes. The plumes detach cleanly, hovering in a curved formation behind him.

With a focused impulse, he launches the feathers across the practice ground. They streak through the pale air and strike the tree’s trunk in a tight angular cluster.

The impact bites into the bark without splintering the tree. Each feather remains lodged at a measured angle, linked to the wing by faint threads of shadow.

Pando recalls the feathers. They withdraw from the bark in a smooth burst and arc back toward his shoulder, rejoining the wing without tearing or drawing from his body.

Tessa steps onto the practice ground and raises her marked hand. The blood-forged dagger forms above her palm, its dark edge settling into her grip.

Pando draws the wing across his front. Its feathers overlap into a dense, curved shield, the outer edges angling toward Tessa while the anchored base stays firm at his shoulder.

Tessa lunges and cuts into the wrapped wing. The dagger meets layered shadow-feathers with a ringing snap, but the structure absorbs the force and holds Pando safely behind it.

Pando lets the wing relax beneath Tessa’s dagger, then guides another controlled strike toward its layered surface. The feathers yield softly beneath his hand until impact reaches them.

At the instant of contact, the outer plumes lock into overlapping plates. The dagger strikes a firm, resilient barrier, while the inner feathers remain flexible around Pando’s protected body.

Tessa withdraws the dagger and lets the wing settle again. Its feathers soften beneath the morning air, retaining the memory of the defensive shape without strain.

Pando looks toward Tessa while the wing remains wrapped before him. Its layered feathers hold their defensive curve, placing her clearly within the protection he has chosen.

Tessa lowers the dagger and lets the blood-forged weapon fade from her hand. Her marked knuckle remains visible as she studies the wing’s overlapping plates.

The wing loosens at Pando’s command, opening around Tessa without touching her. Its hardened plates remain between her and the empty practice ground, while the inner feathers stay soft and responsive.

The wing folds inward at Pando’s side, its layered feathers softening as the defensive curve settles close against his back. Tessa stands unshielded before him.

Tessa looks down at the marked knuckle, then raises her hand. The quiet symbol answers with a faint red-black glimmer, echoing the wing’s angular pattern.

Tessa turns her marked hand toward Pando. A small feather-shaped shadow gathers above her knuckles, stable and harmless, while the wing at his side remains still.

Pando steadies the shadow magic focus and guides the feather’s pattern outward from Tessa’s marked knuckle. The small shape unfolds into two broad wings along her back.

Layered dark feathers settle from her shoulders to her hips, each joint forming cleanly without drawing blood or disturbing the courtyard ash. Tessa remains standing, balanced beneath their new weight.

Tessa rolls her shoulders carefully. Both wings flex in response, opening halfway before folding close again, their motion quiet and precise.

Pando places his hand between Tessa’s wings and guides his attention toward the space around their roots. Tessa tenses slightly, and the air there gathers into a firm, enclosing pressure.

The pressure holds while Tessa keeps her shoulders still. Pando can map its boundary clearly, though the sensation takes his full attention and leaves the wing’s finer movements unexamined for now.

Pando keeps his hand poised between Tessa’s shoulders and guides her attention through the gathered pressure. She imagines the wings reaching outward as gently as arms extending from her back.

Tessa slowly extends both wings. Their layered dark feathers open from the base in measured sections, first widening beside her shoulders, then reaching fully behind her without strain.

The wings hold in a broad, balanced span behind Tessa. Their outer feathers settle into alignment, while the surrounding pressure remains firm enough for her to adjust them independently.

Pando lowers his guiding hand and demonstrates the motion with his shoulders, encouraging Tessa to draw the wings inward as though folding an extra pair of arms close to her back.

Tessa relaxes the pressure around the wings. Their broad span contracts in smooth sections, outer feathers layering inward until both wings rest neatly along her back.

The dark wings settle close against Tessa’s back, quiet and compact. Elian studies the mark while Pando’s guidance leaves Tessa with clear control of the shape.

As Tessa turns, Pando notices her hair is no longer its former dark shade. Pale silver now runs through it in distinct strands, catching the courtyard light around her face.

Tessa lifts a silver strand between her fingers and studies it. The color is even at the ends but brighter near the roots, as though the change followed the mark’s awakening.

Pando keeps examining the strands long enough to lose track of the courtyard’s shifting light. The change is certain, but its timing and permanence remain unresolved.

Tessa straightens and rolls her shoulders. The folded wings open behind her, then flex in small, careful motions as she walks across the practice ground.

Tessa walks a slow circuit beneath the cloister, extending one wing as she turns and folding it close again. Her steps become surer, and the wings follow without tugging at her shoulders.

Tessa widens her path and sweeps both wings outward. She completes the circuit smoothly, discovering that the wings correct a stumble before it becomes a fall, giving her a balance she did not have before.

Tessa breaks into a run beneath the cloister, her folded wings opening halfway with each stride. She circles the practice ground, and Pando tracks their timing, balance, and response to every turn.

Tessa accelerates across the courtyard, sweeping both wings outward before folding them close for a sharp turn. The wings correct her balance and carry her cleanly around the ash-marked ground.

Pando observes the pattern in detail: the wings open before each turn, stabilize her through the change, and close only after her feet recover. The repeated circuit costs him time, and one transition remains difficult to distinguish between instinct and deliberate control.

Pando smiles as Tessa completes another circuit. Her wings open before each turn, catching her balance, then fold close as her stride lengthens across the courtyard.

Tessa lowers her shoulders and runs again, keeping both wings folded until the final stretch. Then they open together, steadying her acceleration across the ash-marked ground.

Tessa bends into the next circuit, wings spreading wide as she drives toward the courtyard’s edge. The feathers angle for the turn, and the practice continues beneath Elian’s watch.

Pando summons the wing in a dark rush and drops into a swift swoop. He catches Tessa securely in his arms as she turns, then drives upward from the courtyard stones.

The launch succeeds, though Pando’s shoulder strikes the cloister’s stone edge hard enough to scrape through his clothing. He keeps his grip and carries Tessa above the ash-marked ground.

Pando’s wing beats strongly beneath them. Tessa stays held close against his chest while he rises beyond the cloister roof, the courtyard shrinking below their joined shadow.

Above the courtyard, Pando steadies the flight with Tessa held close. His scraped shoulder burns with each beat, but the wing carries them safely through the open air.

Pando increases the wingbeats beneath them, lifting into a steady hover above the courtyard. The motion jars his scraped shoulder, and burning pain spreads through it with every forceful beat.

Tessa opens both wings and begins matching Pando’s rhythm. Their joined shadow steadies above the ash-marked ground, though her first beats wobble before settling into a controlled cadence.

Pando adjusts the rhythm, favoring the scraped shoulder while Tessa’s wings synchronize beside his. They hold their hover together, suspended safely over the practice ground.

Pando smiles at Tessa and gathers a thin layer of shadow over his scraped shoulder. The cool darkness covers the injury, easing the exposed sting without disturbing the wing’s balance.

Tessa begins with a careful step through the air, then another. Her wings adjust in small, measured strokes, keeping their shared height steady while Pando shortens the beat on his injured side.

Together they drift across the courtyard in a slow arc. Tessa’s wings respond to each shift of her balance, while Pando’s shadow covering holds securely over his shoulder.

Pando shifts his shoulders and guides the paired wings into a stronger, even rhythm. He and Tessa rise together above the courtyard, clearing the cloister roof with room to spare.

Their shared shadow passes over the weathered roof tiles. Tessa keeps her body close to Pando’s, matching his ascent while her wings hold them level against the pale sky.

Pando steadies them at the new height. Tessa’s wings flex beside his, and the monastery courtyard remains clearly visible below as they hover in calm balance.

Pando eases his arms and loosens his hold around Tessa, shifting his wing beneath her only long enough to give her a stable release. She catches the air at once.

Tessa separates cleanly and opens both wings into a measured glide. She descends beside Pando rather than beneath him, keeping her shoulders level and her flight entirely under her own control.

Tessa angles toward the practice ground and touches down lightly beside the ash sigil. Her wings fold close as Pando descends after her, and the courtyard opens safely beneath them.

Pando settles onto the ash-dusted ground beside Tessa, landing lightly despite the scraped shoulder. He folds the wing close, then dismisses it into a quiet red-black shimmer.

The last feathers dissolve from his back. Tessa lands beside him and folds her own wings, watching the space where his vanished without alarm.

Pando’s recollection settles around the hooked pommel, the uneven guard, and the crow-pattern beneath both forms. The curse’s language feels less like command and more like a map he can read.

The courtyard grows quiet around them. Tessa stands at Pando’s side with her wings folded, while the remembered hilt remains vivid in his mind, stable and waiting.

Sister Elian inclines her head, accepting the gratitude without ceremony. Her attention shifts from Pando’s shoulder to Tessa’s folded wings, considering how the lesson should continue.

Tessa touches one folded wing, testing its weight and position before letting her hand fall. The feathers remain quiet against her back, fully anchored to the mark.

Pando turns toward the cloister, keeping his shoulder relaxed after the flight. Tessa folds her wings close and walks beside him, while Sister Elian follows at an unhurried pace.

Brother Oren and Davren wait beneath the weathered stones with the monastery chest secured between them. Oren watches Tessa’s folded wings, while Davren keeps the copied records and map arranged in his hands.

Tessa steps closer to the chest, keeping her wings tucked neatly behind her. Brother Oren lifts the blue-marked map, and the four witnesses gather beneath the cloister to examine the next route together.

Pando draws the blue-wax warning packet and marked route map from beneath his cloak. He crosses the cloister and places both directly into Sister Elian’s waiting hands.

Elian accepts the packet without breaking its seal, then unfolds the map across the monastery chest. Brother Oren and Davren lean closer as the marked routes spread beneath the pale light.

Sister Elian breaks the packet’s seal and removes the folded warning. Her eyes move across the first lines, then sharpen as she compares its markings with the route map.

Elian gathers the packet and map beneath one hand, while Oren secures the chest. The archive door remains open behind them, inviting the witnesses into the next examination.

Sister Elian lowers the warning and studies Pando over its opened fold. Brother Oren and Davren wait beside the chest while Tessa remains close at Pando’s shoulder.

Elian turns the packet so the inked names face the others. A second notation places Merrow beneath the old chapel, alive when the last record was made, then marks the passage sealed.

Pando spreads the marked route map across the monastery chest. Sister Elian bends over it, while Tessa, Brother Oren, and Davren gather close to see the markings.

Elian marks two locations in ash: the sealed lower chapel passage and a narrow archive annex concealed behind the western shelves. A faint line connects them beneath the monastery.

The decision settles over the map and warning packet. Sister Elian folds the marked route inward, while Tessa secures the provisions and checks that the hidden passage remains clear.

Davren gathers the copied records beneath his cloak, and Brother Oren checks the chest’s broken seal. Sister Elian marks a morning meeting point beside the cloister gate.

Pando heads to the ashen courtyard and settles beneath the weathered cloister. The practice ground lies quiet, its pale ash holding the last warmth of daylight.

Tessa follows with her folded wings resting close against her back. She sets the provision bundle beside a cloister pillar and keeps the warning protected beneath her clothes.

Tessa leaves the courtyard only long enough to carry the copied route notes toward the archive. Pando remains beneath the cloister, watching the light fade across the ash.

Night gathers without disturbance. Ash trees become dark shapes beyond the courtyard wall, while the first stars appear above the cloister and the monastery settles into silence.

Pando rises beneath the cloister and walks into the ashen courtyard. Night air settles coolly over the practice ground, and Tessa’s folded wings remain quiet against her back.

Tessa joins him beneath the open sky and settles near the cloister pillar. The provision bundle rests beside her, while the monastery remains hushed beyond the courtyard walls.

Sister Elian withdraws beneath the cloister, leaving Pando and Tessa beneath the stars. Tessa watches the dark courtyard beside him, alert but at ease.

Beneath the stars, Pando draws the compact dream hilt from beneath his cloak. Its hooked pommel and broken-wing guard catch the faint courtyard light as Tessa watches nearby.

He turns the hilt slowly, examining the guard’s longer outer curve, shorter inward hook, and deliberate gap between them. The shape is asymmetrical, but every angle carries purpose.

The inspection reveals a narrow channel beneath the guard, running from the hooked pommel into the hilt’s core. It anchors the form and redirects excess shadow outward.

Pando sees the complete pattern now: the broken wing is a controlled return path, preserving the hilt while giving summoned force somewhere safe to fold and disperse.

Pando steadies the compact hilt and focuses a measured thread of his blood through its narrow channel. Shadow gathers along the broken guard, then folds outward through the deliberate gap.

A fresh blade forms from the hilt, long and narrow, with a clean red-black edge and a faint faceted sheen. It is a new shape, stable in Pando’s grasp, while the hooked pommel holds firm.

The weapon answers a careful turn of Pando’s wrist. Its balance favors precision, and the open gap in the guard releases excess shadow into the night instead of drawing it back through him.

The new blade remains solid beneath the stars, its edge dimming to a controlled ember-dark glow. Tessa watches closely as the courtyard stays quiet around their experiment.

Pando points the blade’s narrow tip toward an ashen tree. The hilt responds immediately, loosening the edge into a curved, branching shape while the hooked pommel remains unchanged.

The red-black form lengthens into a broad, hooked pruning blade, its edge settling against a low branch without biting into the bark. Shadow drains safely through the gap in the guard.

At Pando’s measured wrist turn, the hooked blade shortens and thickens into a compact climbing pick. Its point rests against the tree’s rough trunk, stable and harmless beneath the stars.

Pando jumps back from the tree and turns the compact hilt through his grip. The climbing pick lengthens, its head narrowing as a clean blade reforms along the familiar channel.

He completes the motion and slashes across the low branch. The newly formed edge bites through the wood, sending a clean section tumbling into the ash grass.

The blade holds steady after the strike, balanced in Pando’s hand. Shadow drains through the guard’s open gap, leaving the edge intact and the hilt unchanged.

Tessa steps closer to inspect the severed branch, while the new blade remains poised beneath the stars, ready for Pando’s next deliberate change.

Pando jumps farther back, widening the distance from the ashen tree. The compact hilt shifts in his grip, its channel reshaping the formed edge into a short, heavy hatchet.

The hatchet’s angular head settles with a clean weight. Pando turns through his shoulders and releases it toward the low trunk, sending the weapon spinning across the courtyard.

The hatchet strikes the tree squarely and bites deep into the wood. Its haft remains steady, while the compact hilt’s open gap vents excess shadow into the night.

Tessa approaches the severed branch and studies the embedded hatchet from a safe distance. The weapon remains intact, its form held by the hilt’s remembered channel.

Pando focuses on the blood within the compact hilt and calls through its remembered channel. The embedded hatchet shudders, tears free of the tree, and flies across the courtyard into his waiting hand.

The hatchet settles firmly in Pando’s grip, its angular head unchanged. Shadow vents through the open gap, and the return leaves no pull in his hand or strain in his shoulder.

Tessa steps nearer while keeping clear of the blade. The hatchet’s weight remains solid in Pando’s hand, its form held independently of the tree and ready for another test.

Pando draws the hatchet’s shape inward through the compact hilt, returning it to its hooked pommel and uneven guard. He then guides a fresh form outward, shaping a new sword with a straight grip and narrow, balanced edge.

The sword settles firmly in his hand, distinct from the destroyed blade that once occupied the hilt. Its new edge gleams darkly beneath the stars while excess shadow vents through the open guard.

Pando tests the new sword with a careful lift and measured turn. The grip answers well, though the point settles a finger’s breadth differently from the remembered longsword.

The cost of the attempt becomes clear in the missing details: Pando has lost the hatchet’s exact pattern and must study this sword anew. Still, the new weapon remains stable in his grasp.

Pando draws the hatchet back into the compact hilt, restoring its hooked pommel, uneven guard, and deliberate open gap. The old shape settles coolly in his hand beneath the stars.

He guides shadow and cursed blood through the hilt’s channel. A long two-handed haft extends, while the guard spreads into angular wings and the curved blade forms like a crow’s beak.

The completed scythe rises taller than Pando, its dark crescent edge sweeping from one wing-shaped side. Featherlike ridges line the haft, and the hooked pommel becomes a crow’s folded tail.

The manifestation succeeds, but the toll arrives at once. Cold drains through Pando’s arms and chest, leaving his breath shallow as the scythe’s weight settles into both hands.

The scythe remains stable beneath the cloister, its crescent edge angled toward the ash grass. Shadow vents through the open guard, while the crowlike weapon waits for Pando’s next command.

Pando shifts his hands along the scythe’s long haft and sweeps it through the open air. The crescent blade follows in a wide, controlled arc, carrying more weight than its shape suggests.

He completes the swing by turning his hips and drawing the haft across his body. The weapon’s momentum settles into his stance instead of pulling him forward, and the featherlike ridges hum softly.

Pando adjusts his grip and makes a second pass, slower this time. The long haft rotates cleanly between his palms, while the curved edge cuts only empty air above the ash grass.

The final sweep ends with the scythe held diagonally across Pando’s body, stable and ready. Its crowlike shape remains intact, and the toll does not deepen beyond the cold already in his chest.

Pando lowers the crow-shaped scythe and rests its haft against the cloister pillar. The crescent edge remains clear of everyone as he turns toward Sister Elian.

Elian studies him across the quiet courtyard. Her attention lingers on the scythe, then returns to his face as the last hum fades from its featherlike ridges.

The answer is clear, but her caution settles between them as a new boundary. Tessa remains nearby, her folded wings still, while Elian gestures toward the scythe.

Pando bows toward Sister Elian, careful not to jostle the scythe resting against the cloister pillar. The gesture is quiet and plainly offered.

Elian’s guarded expression eases. Tessa watches the exchange beside her folded wings, while the scythe’s featherlike ridges settle into silence.

She turns toward the weapon and the dark monastery beyond the courtyard, leaving the question open while the night still gives them time to answer it.

Pando rests one hand on the scythe’s haft without lifting it. The cold left by its shaping still lingers through his arms and chest, making the cost plain without another demonstration.

Sister Elian takes the scythe’s haft and guides it into a padded wall rack beneath the cloister. She leaves the release under Pando’s control, but places the weapon outside immediate reach.

The decision settles cleanly. The crow-shaped scythe remains secured beneath the cloister while Pando, Tessa, and Elian turn back toward the monastery’s preparations for dawn.

Pando looks to Tessa beneath the cloister. The secured scythe remains on its rack, while the monastery’s quiet deepens around them and dawn waits beyond the darkened courtyard.

Tessa gathers the provision bundle and carries it beneath the cloister. She settles near a sheltered pillar, her folded wings resting neatly against her back.

Sister Elian leads them through the cloister into a small guest chamber. Clean blankets and a low ash-lamp wait inside, with enough space for Tessa’s wings to remain undisturbed.

Tessa settles beneath the blanket, while Pando has a place beside the quiet wall. The ash-lamp burns low, and the monastery finally gives them an undisturbed night.

The ash-lamp burns low as Pando closes his eyes. Tessa sleeps beneath her blanket nearby, wings folded, while the monastery’s silence recedes beneath the first dark currents of the curse.

Pando enters the dream waters fully. Red-black reflections spread beneath him, and the curse’s lattice glows below the surface, immense but clearly bounded by the will he carries into it.

The waters accept his presence and carry him toward the lattice’s center. The hilt, the wings, and the newer weapon-forms appear as separate currents flowing from one quiet source.

Success leaves a definite cost: Pando’s composure thins, and his sense of where his own thoughts end becomes briefly difficult to hold. He anchors himself to the steady rhythm of his breathing.

The boundary answers. His thoughts regain their edges, and Pando stands within the curse’s dream waters with the lattice open before him, ready to be examined without surrendering command.

Pando searches the dream waters around the glowing lattice, following every current beyond the hilt, wings, and shaped weapons. The curse’s forms drift aside without resisting his scrutiny.

Beneath the lattice, he finds a hollow space where the red-black currents converge. Something solid rests there, concealed beneath layers of shadow and reflected water.

Pando reaches through the currents and draws the hidden shape into view. It is a compact, faceted form like a crouched seed of black glass, threaded with slow crimson light.

The form has no face or limbs, but three narrow channels open and close across its surface, answering to forge, reclaim, and hunger. Its center pulses in time with Pando’s breathing.

He now sees the curse’s physical body clearly: a sealed core beneath the lattice, capable of unfolding into every shape it has given him. It remains still within his boundary.

The faceted core stops pulsing. Its three channels close, and the dream water draws inward until Pando stands before a silent, concentrated presence.

The answer travels through Pando’s boundary rather than through sound. The core opens its forge, reclaim, and hunger channels, showing each as a function beneath the lattice.

The hollow around the core clears, revealing no hidden face or separate master. Avaris remains solid, an ageless, ungendered nonhuman entity within Pando’s boundary, distinct from him yet anchored to his blood and breath.

The faceted core turns within the dream water. Its crimson channels open one after another, revealing layers of darkness folded beneath the transparent black surface.

A section of the core becomes clear. Beneath forge, reclaim, and hunger rests a deeper reservoir, sealed behind interlocking planes that reflect Pando’s boundary back at him.

The reservoir remains closed, but its presence is unmistakable: vast pressure held in precise silence. Avaris shows Pando the seals without opening them, giving him a clear map of what lies beneath.

The sealed reservoir responds to Pando’s question. Its interlocking planes separate in the dream water, revealing measured chambers rather than one uncontrolled flood.

A sequence of seals illuminates beneath the crystal surface. Forge, reclaim, movement, and defense each connect to a separate chamber, while the deeper reservoir remains divided into controlled portions.

The answer settles plainly within Pando’s boundary: practice and intentional trust will open Avaris’s sealed functions, while every opening remains subject to Pando’s command.

Avaris’s faceted core turns beneath the dream water. The sealed chambers rearrange, opening a clear space where form can gather without touching Pando’s waking body.

Avaris opens the forge channel. Pando gives the form a simple purpose, and a compact black spear assembles before him from shadow and hardened blood, balanced and complete.

The spear holds steady at Pando’s command, then dissolves back into the dream water without cost. The forge chamber remains open, ready for further practice.

Dream water gathers around Pando’s extended hand. A thin red stream rises without pain, twisting through shadow until it hardens into a broad-headed war hammer with a short, balanced haft.

Pando turns the dream weapon once. Its dark head carries no ornament, yet the blood within it remains steady, held by the forge channel instead of drawn from his sleeping body.

The war hammer remains solid in Pando’s grasp, complete and usable within the dream. Its weight answers his will as the open forge chamber waits for his next experiment.

Pando draws the war hammer’s blood back through the forge channel. Its broad head collapses into red-black threads, returning to the dream core without resistance or strain.

He places both hands before him. Blood and shadow gather around his fingers, spreading across his palms and wrists before hardening into matching angular gauntlets.

The gauntlets form completely, fitted close from knuckles to forearms. Their dark surfaces flex with every finger, and narrow channels pulse quietly beneath the dream-forged armor.

The gauntlets answer as Pando closes and opens his hands. Their weight remains balanced, their joints move cleanly, and the forge channel holds the new form without drawing on his waking body.

Pando draws the blood from both gauntlets. Their angular plates soften into red-black threads, slipping back through the forge channel until his hands are bare.

He extends one hand and gives the returning shape a single purpose. Blood and shadow lengthen from his palm, gathering into a straight shaft with a balanced weight.

The staff completes in his grasp, dark and smooth, with a broad angular head forming at one end and a smaller hooked grip at the other. Its structure settles without resistance.

Pando turns the staff through both hands. The shaft follows cleanly, carrying the imagined force from his shoulders into the head without dragging his stance out of alignment.

Pando draws the staff inward through the forge channel. Its broad head, smooth shaft, and hooked grip soften into red-black threads, then return cleanly to his body without strain or loss.

The forge channel closes beneath the dream water. No weapon remains in Pando’s grasp, yet the staff’s balance and construction stay clear within his understanding.

The dream settles around Pando’s bare hands. The forge waits beneath the lattice, ready to answer a deliberate shape rather than an impulsive one.

Pando reaches into the forge channel and draws a considerable measure of blood into the dream water. Shadow coils through it, dividing the gathered red into five precise streams.

Each stream hardens into a narrow dagger with an angular guard and balanced point. The five blood-forged blades rise behind Pando, suspended in an even crescent.

The daggers remain motionless behind Pando, their edges turned outward while their hilts align with the forge channel’s quiet rhythm. The formation answers his awareness without drifting.

Pando’s considerable offering settles into the five blades without spilling further. The dream water grows still beneath them, preserving each dagger as a distinct, usable form.

Pando sends the five daggers forward together. They leave the crescent in perfect order, then fan across the dream water with their angular points aligned.

Each blood-forged dagger slashes through empty air along a separate path. The five cuts intersect in a precise lattice before the blades reverse direction without colliding.

Pando guides the daggers through a second sequence, sending them high, low, and across the center. They carve clean arcs through the air, then halt together at his chosen distance.

The unexpected advantage becomes clear: once released, the formation remembers its spacing and returns to a crescent with only a small correction from Pando.

The five daggers settle behind Pando in their original formation, edges outward and hilts aligned. The dream water goes still beneath their suspended points.

Pando focuses on the five suspended daggers, holding their crescent formation steady while shadow magic threads through each blade’s shape.

Each dagger divides cleanly into five slender arrows. Their angular heads and balanced shafts form in midair until twenty-five arrows hover in five ordered groups.

The arrows spread into a broad lattice, preserving equal spacing between every shaft. Pando’s command passes through the whole array without collision or drift.

With a small correction, the twenty-five arrows return to five crescent formations, each aligned behind the position of its original dagger.

Pando wills the twenty-five arrows outward, arranging them into a wide circle around himself. Their shafts rotate into even spacing, each parent pattern preserving its ordered group.

He slams his hand into the dream water. The command ripples through the circle, and every arrow drops together in a controlled rain toward the dark surface.

The arrows strike the water around him without collision, forming a complete ring of slender shafts. Red-black reflections flare beneath each impact, then settle into stillness.

At Pando’s will, the arrows rise from the dream water and return to their five crescent groups, intact and ready. The circular fall has left their structure unchanged.

The five groups hover before the faceted core, awaiting Pando’s deliberate choice. The dream water remains calm beneath them, and the forge channel stays open.

Pando looks down at his hands and closes his fingers. The twenty-five arrows dissolve together, their blood and shadow returning through the forge channel without resistance.

The five parent patterns collapse into the five daggers, then into red-black threads. Each thread enters Pando’s palms and settles completely, leaving his hands whole and empty.

Pando turns his hands over beneath the dream’s dim light. The skin shows no wound, and the forge channel closes into a quiet line beneath the faceted core.

The dream water settles around Pando’s bare hands. The twenty-five arrows are gone, and the reclaimed blood rests within him, ready for a new deliberate form.

The dream water brightens around Pando’s empty hands. The forge channel remains open, calm and precise, while the twenty-five reclaimed patterns rest safely within him.

The faceted core opens its forge channel in confirmation. Images of the spear, hammer, gauntlets, staff, daggers, and arrows pass through the water as orderly memories, each distinct and complete.

Pando’s satisfaction settles through the dream without disturbing the boundary around Avaris. The curse remains powerful, contained, and ready for whatever deliberate shape he chooses next.

The forge channel opens wide. A considerable red stream rises from Pando without pain, dividing into complete forms around him: spear, hammer, gauntlets, staff, daggers, arrows, hatchet, sword, and the crow-shaped scythe.

The weapons arrange themselves in concentric rings, each shape balanced and distinct. The daggers and arrows hold their parent formations, while the larger weapons turn slowly through the dream water without colliding.

A new advantage reveals itself: Pando can exchange one weapon for another instantly, drawing any chosen form into his hand while the others remain suspended and ready.

The blood settles into every shape without waste. Around Pando, the complete armory remains calm, awaiting his next command beneath the brightened dream water.

The forge channel opens wider. Blood and shadow surge through the suspended armory, sharpening the spear, hammer, gauntlets, staff, hatchet, and sword into heavier, more lethal forms while the scythe’s crescent edge darkens.

The daggers narrow into vicious points, and the arrows lengthen with angular heads. Every weapon gains a distinct killing purpose, yet the rings remain perfectly spaced around Pando.

Avaris opens a deeper forge chamber. Red-black channels connect every weapon, allowing Pando to draw one into his hand at full strength while the others remain ready to answer.

The enhanced weapons settle into their concentric rings, each edge and point radiating contained danger. The blood remains stable, and the entire armory waits beneath Pando’s command.

Pando looks toward the faceted core as its sealed planes shift beneath the dream water. The first hidden chamber opens fully, and a controlled red-black current flows into the forge channel.

Avaris reveals the awakened channel connecting to every weapon in the surrounding armory. The current can reinforce an edge, harden a defense, or preserve a shape under strain.

The first channel settles into a steady glow beneath the crystal facets. Pando knows its function clearly: it adds resilience and force to an existing shape while leaving his choice intact.

Pando turns his will through the armory’s concentric rings. Every spear, hammer, gauntlet, staff, dagger, arrow, hatchet, sword, and scythe unravels into red-black threads and streams back into him.

The weapons vanish completely. Their blood returns through the forge channel in ordered portions, leaving Pando’s body whole while each recovered pattern settles into precise memory.

Pando follows that thought beneath the awakened reinforcement channel. His composure thins as the dream’s boundaries blur, and he hesitates long enough for the disturbance to become unmistakable.

A second hidden chamber opens within Avaris’s crystal core. A deep red-black current flows into the reclaim channel, and Pando understands how to call every scattered form home without rebuilding it first.

The newly opened reclaiming channel changes its rhythm. Beneath it, a third chamber unfolds within Avaris’s crystal core, carrying a warmer current through the dream water.

Avaris opens the third chamber fully. It reveals blood flowing outward as fine red-black threads, knitting a torn pattern closed before returning to its source without waste.

The lesson settles plainly within Pando’s boundary: healing is a separate function, distinct from forging and reclaiming. It can close wounds, restore damaged flesh, and return his blood afterward.

Pando looks toward his injured shoulder and releases a measured thread of blood into the dream water. The healing channel catches it, warm and precise.

Red-black threads pass through the shoulder’s damaged pattern, closing the torn tissue and restoring its strength. The burning pain fades completely as the blood returns to Pando.

The success leaves Pando’s composure briefly frayed. His boundary wavers, and for one breath he cannot tell whether the warmth belongs to his own relief or the channel’s response.

Pando’s boundary firms again. His shoulder remains whole and capable, while the healing channel settles beneath the forge and reclaiming currents.

Pando rolls his shoulder through its full range. The joint moves smoothly, with no tearing, weakness, or returning pain as the healed pattern settles into ordinary motion.

The warmth fades from the dream water and returns to the faceted core. Pando’s boundary remains firm, while the healing channel closes beneath the forge and reclaiming currents.

The dream settles into quiet clarity around Pando. His shoulder remains steady, and Avaris waits within the bounded lattice for the next deliberate question.

The dream water stills around Pando. Avaris’s faceted core remains before him, its channels dimmed but attentive within the firm boundary of his will.

The forge, reclaiming, reinforcement, and healing channels settle into quiet lines beneath the crystal surface. The dream holds its shape without resisting Pando’s decision to leave.

Pando’s awareness rises through the dark water and crosses the boundary cleanly. The dream dissolves, and the monastery guest chamber returns around his waking body.

The low ash-lamp has burned nearly out. Tessa sleeps nearby beneath her blanket, her folded wings quiet, while morning remains beyond the shuttered window.

Pando looks toward Tessa and smiles. The ash-lamp casts a faint glow across her sleeping face and the folded wings resting quietly against her back.

Tessa stirs beneath the blanket, opens her eyes, and finds Pando watching from beside the quiet wall. Morning light has not yet reached the shutters.

She pushes herself upright and smooths the blanket over her folded wings. Her silver-streaked hair catches the ash-lamp’s last light as she studies his face.

Beyond the shutters, the monastery remains still. Tessa reaches for the water cup beside her blanket and holds it out to Pando, making room for whatever he will say next.

Pando accepts the cup without looking away from Tessa. He releases a small thread of blood at his fingertip, and shadow folds around it into a tiny, precise dagger.

The miniature blood-forged dagger holds steady at Pando’s fingertip, complete without drawing more blood. Its angular point reflects the ash-lamp’s last glow.

Tessa lowers the cup only after Pando takes it. Her folded wings remain still beneath the blanket, while silver strands of hair frame her attentive face.

The tiny dagger dissolves back into a dark-red thread and returns through Pando’s fingertip. The guest chamber remains quiet, but Tessa’s question opens the morning’s first decision.

Pando lets the tiny dagger dissolve into a dark-red thread, then accepts the cup Tessa offers and drinks. The water steadies his mouth, but his focus wavers for one visible breath.

The offer leaves Pando’s composure briefly exposed. Tessa notices the hesitation, though the dismissed dagger does not return and no blood remains at his fingertip.

Tessa keeps the cup within his reach and shifts upright beneath the blanket. Her folded wings remain still, giving Pando clear space beside the quiet wall.

Pando takes the cup from Tessa’s waiting hand and drinks again. Then he rises, opens the guest-chamber door, and leads her into the cloistered passage.

They cross beneath the quiet cloister and step into the courtyard. Pale morning light spreads across the ash-dusted practice ground, leaving ample room around them.

Tessa moves several paces away and turns to face Pando. Her folded wings remain close against her back as she waits, attentive and ready to watch the demonstration.

Pando releases five fine streams of blood from his fingertips. Shadow winds through them, hardening each thread into an angular dagger that rises around him.

The five daggers settle into an even hovering circle at shoulder height, points turned outward and hilts aligned. They remain perfectly still, answering the quiet command that holds them.

Tessa keeps her wings folded and takes one careful step around the formation. The daggers maintain their spacing as she moves, forming a guarded ring around Pando.

The five hovering weapons remain ready in the pale courtyard light. Their edges gleam darkly while Pando retains complete control over their distance, direction, and stillness.

Pando releases three daggers from the hovering circle. They streak across the courtyard and pierce the ash tree in a tight triangular pattern, while the remaining two sweep around him in crossing arcs.

The two slashing daggers carve clean, controlled cuts across the tree’s outer branches without striking the lodged blades. Pando guides all five weapons as one precise formation.

At Pando’s silent command, the three embedded daggers pull free and join the circling pair. The five reform into their original ring without touching one another or losing momentum.

The ash tree bears three clean punctures and two controlled slashes, revealing a further advantage: the daggers can coordinate separate tasks while preserving a shared formation and return path.

Pando dismisses the five daggers. Their forms dissolve into quiet shadow and return to him without resistance, leaving the ash tree marked but the courtyard clear. He turns to Tessa with a smile.

Tessa steps nearer the tree, studying the three punctures and the controlled cuts across its outer branches. Her folded wings remain tucked close as she considers the pattern.

Tessa raises her marked hand and lets a faint shadow gather along her shoulders. Her wings open halfway, one remaining still while the other flexes in a careful, isolated beat.

Pando crosses his arms and smiles, watching without directing her. Tessa keeps the left wing fixed while the right flexes, folds, and opens through three measured beats.

Tessa shifts her weight and walks a slow circle around the tree. Her left wing remains level behind her, while the right traces small arcs that follow her turn without disturbing the first.

Tessa follows the instruction cleanly. The right wing sweeps with her turning shoulders, then settles as she stops, while the left remains steady until both fold together at her back.

Tessa lowers her wings and walks directly toward Pando, stopping within arm’s reach beside the marked tree. Her attention stays on his hands.

The remembered dream technique settles clearly in Pando’s awareness: blood can reinforce an existing weapon while preserving its chosen shape, rather than forcing a new one.

Tessa’s request is calm, but her trust now carries a condition. She remains close, ready to listen and watch the technique without stepping away.

Tessa opens both wings and holds them steady behind her. Pando guides the reinforcement through their existing pattern, strengthening each feather and joint without changing their shape or movement.

A dense shadow settles through the wings, making the layered feathers firmer and more durable. They flex once under Tessa’s command, then hold their reinforced form without strain.

The technique succeeds, but Pando’s composure slips during the final binding. His focus falters for one visible breath before he gathers it again, leaving Tessa aware of the hesitation.

The strengthened wings fold neatly against Tessa’s back, their new resilience preserved. The mark remains quiet as she waits for Pando’s next instruction.

Pando retracts his hand and gives Tessa room. She turns toward the ash tree, opening her reinforced wings as their denser feathers catch the morning light.

Tessa drives one wing forward in a controlled sweep. Its reinforced outer feathers strike the tree with a solid crack, bending a low branch and shaking ash from the bark.

She draws the wing back without stumbling. The strengthened joints hold firm, and the tree bears a clean impact mark while Tessa remains balanced and ready.

Pando gives Tessa room across the ash-dusted courtyard. She bends her knees, opens both reinforced wings, and lets their pressure gather beneath her feathers.

Tessa pushes upward. Her boots leave the ground, and the reinforced wings beat in an even rhythm, lifting her above the ash while she keeps her body level.

She glides around the courtyard wall, opens one wing to turn, then beats both wings to cross above the practice ground. Her path stays smooth and controlled.

Tessa completes another circuit and descends beside Pando, folding the reinforced wings close as her boots touch the ash. She remains balanced, breathing steadily.

Pando and Tessa cross the ash-dusted courtyard toward the western cloister. Tessa keeps her reinforced wings folded close as the morning light spreads across the monastery stones.

Sister Elian waits beneath the cloister with Brother Oren and Davren beside the copied records. They turn toward Pando and Tessa as the pair approaches.

Pando reports the result plainly: Tessa’s reinforced wings can carry her through the air, correct her balance, and strike with controlled force. Tessa demonstrates both functions before the gathered witnesses.

Tessa opens both wings and rises a short distance, then descends beside the cloister. She turns one wing into a firm striking surface and stops before the stone wall.

Sister Elian studies the western route on the map, then marks the annex entrance and the narrow cloister approach with two ash lines.

Brother Oren points to a side passage behind the western shelves. It gives the group a way to approach under cover without crossing the annex threshold openly.

Pando reaches out to Tessa. She takes his hand, and together they leave the cloister with Sister Elian, Brother Oren, and Davren toward the western archive annex.

The western annex rises ahead behind weathered stone and narrow windows. Three monastery sentries, armored in gray leather with ash-marked shields, step into the approach and lower their spears across the path.

Sister Elian raises her sealed authority mark and announces the party’s inspection. The sentries recognize it after a tense glance, lower their weapons, and open the annex passage.

Pando and Tessa enter the western archive annex with the others. Dusty shelves and a concealed western stair wait inside, while the guards remain outside under Elian’s authority.

Reach the lower chapel passage