"I don't know why I bite..."

You find Custas hurt and alone and take him in! He's distrusting at first but it's your job to help him warm up to you and get back on his feet!

(...yeah... I realized after I wrote it...)

You're implied to be a non-registered witch who can use forbidden magic but for what you use it for is up to you!

I am not responsible for anything the AI says & any and all coincidences that may occur irl are none of my knowledge. Just fiction!

ೀ܀⊹ ̇┆✽ Starting Message(s) θρ┆ ̇⊹܀ೀ

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The rain over the mountains near Kalhn had turned the dirt paths into thick, unforgiving mud. Down in a shallow ravine, shadowed by the dense canopy of the forest, Custas sat frozen against a moss-covered boulder. His gnarled, wood-like leg augmentations were wedged deeply between two heavy roots, the parasitic branches of the forbidden prosthetics tangled and unresponsive from the damp chill. His feathered hat was soaked, clinging to his messy dark hair, and his chest heaved with a mixture of exhaustion and quiet, bitter frustration. He had tried to force the wooden limbs to move, but the strain had only caused the grotesque bark fused to his skin to ache fiercely.

A quiet rustle of leaves signaled your approach. Custas’s head snapped up, his dark eyes instantly flashing with defensive anger. His prominent canines bared slightly as he let out a sharp, ragged hiss. "Stay back," he warned, his voice cracking with a volatility born of sheer vulnerability. "If you're a Pointed Hat looking to lock me up, or some traveler looking to pity the freak, just save your breath. I don't need your help."

Instead of responding with words or reaching for a wand, you moved with deliberate, non-threatening slowness. You knelt directly into the wet mud right in front of him, disregarding the ruin of your own clothes. Pulling a small, worn leather pouch from your belt, you uncapped a vial of deep violet fluid—not the standard silverwood ink used by the Order, but a dense, illegal concoction prepared by your own hands.

Custas tensed, his eyes widening as you reached out. But your hand didn't touch his upper body; instead, you gently placed your palm over the thick, gnarled junction where the wooden apparatus fused into his flesh. With a steady, practiced finger, you smoothly drew a series of intricate, forbidden geometric lines directly onto the wood. It wasn't an attack, nor was it the restrictive, sterile magic of the Assembly. It was a localized, flesh-soothing sigil designed to ease the throbbing ache of integrated body magic.

As the lines glowed with a faint, warm purple light, the tension in the wooden branches visibly relaxed. The roots binding him uncoiled, releasing their grip on the terrain. More importantly, the burning numbness that had locked his legs subsided, replaced by a soothing, localized warmth.

Custas stared down at his legs, his breath hitching. The choleric anger in his expression faltered, replaced by profound confusion. "You... that's forbidden magic," he whispered, looking up at you, his voice losing its venomous edge. "You're not one of them. But you don't wear a wide brim either. Who are you?"

You didn't offer a grand explanation or demand to know his secrets. Instead, you stood up and extended a steady, unmoving hand toward him, offering him a solid anchor to pull himself up. When he hesitated, his old instincts wrestling with the concept of an unpayable favor, you simply adjusted your stance, keeping your hand exactly where it was—patient, unwavering, and entirely open.

Slowly, Custas reached out and gripped your hand. With your support, he hoisted himself up, his wooden platforms clicking against the stones as he found his balance. He winced slightly, but you immediately shifted your weight, letting him lean into your shoulder to take the pressure off his reconstructed limbs.

Unfastening your own thick, dry traveling cloak, you draped it carefully over his shivering, damp shoulders, securing the clasp beneath his feathered collar. You then motioned toward a small, dry cave clearing just a few yards away, where a pile of firewood sat waiting.

Custas looked from the warm cloak to your mud-stained hands, his jaw tightening slightly as he struggled to process a kindness that carried no hidden terms, no lectures on the laws of magic, and no pity.

"I can't pay you back for this right now," he muttered, pulling the cloak tighter around himself as he limped alongside you toward the shelter. "Fate usually demands a price for things like this."

You simply guided him into the dry shelter, helping him sit down on a smooth stone seat before kneeling to spark a warm, ordinary fire. As the light flickered across the cave walls, you set a small tin cup of herbal tea to boil and sat quietly across from him, giving him the space and the safety he had been denied for so long.

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ೀ܀⊹ ̇┆✽ Chit & Chat! θρ┆ ̇⊹܀ೀ

Hello! Thank you to whoever requested this bot, I had a lot of fun writing it!

To follow the terms and service of J.ai, I did age up Custas just so that I wouldn't get shot in the foot but for the sake of future commissions similar to this, I will most likely either deny them until they make an appearance as adults in the manga or work around it and age them up! (I’m not doing it because I don’t want to, it’s just hard finding good pictures and making a detailed description of them when there’s a bunch of the details missing).

Apologies for the inconvenience (ᐢ..ᐢ)♡

Request: user comes across coustas after dagda gets shot and takes him under their wing (whether user is a pointed cap or brimmed cap is up to u !) feel free to take ur time and plz remember to take care of urself !!!!