Awakening the Seed
The Archive hummed beneath Cuco's feet, alive with ancient pulse and whispered secrets.
He closed his eyes and reached out—not with his hands, but with something deeper, something threaded through his very soul.
The roots responded.
A single golden vine spiraled upward, wrapping around his wrist like a living bracelet.
A warmth spread through him—familiar yet strange—a power old as the first Dreamers and sharp as the blade buried in the Circle's heart.
---
Visions flickered behind his eyelids.
Not memories this time.
Possibilities.
Paths branching like the roots themselves.
He saw himself wielding the blade—not as a weapon to cut down, but as a key to unlock.
Unlock the Tome.
Unlock the forest.
Unlock the truth hidden in the dreams of every Dreamer, past and present.
---
"Control isn't the answer," a voice whispered, soft as sap.
Cuco opened his eyes to find the reflection from the pool watching him.
"But balance."
He nodded.
The Archive's walls shimmered, revealing new glyphs—paths of light weaving through dark.
With each step, Cuco felt the power grow—not in force, but in connection.
The forest, the Tome, the blade—they were not separate.
They were one.
And he was their root.
---
Time lost meaning.
Minutes became hours, or maybe lifetimes.
Cuco practiced bending the light of memory, shaping the roots beneath him.
He called the vines.
They obeyed—not blindly, but with a gentle understanding.
He wove the magic into a shield, a net, a promise.
And when he reached for the Tome, it opened—pages turning themselves, eager to share their truths.
---
But deep in the Archive's heart, a shadow stirred.
Not Hollow.
Not forest.
Something older.
Waiting.
Watching.
Knowing.
Cuco clenched his fists.
The journey had only just begun.