You place the tome on the dais. The runes once again glow with the same shadowy light, and the runes on the pages coalesce into a language you
can read.
Listen close, formling, for outside the walls of our shadowy respite there are strange things that you might find. Long ago, there was a young
formling that was wandering in the woods outside of the village. Though they thought the woods safe, for shades had gone in it all the time, there
were dangers not heeded. As the formling wandered, they came across a disrupted shade. It cried out in pain, as though injured. It did not look
like any shade the formling knew, its face distorted and twisted. The formling asked what was wrong, but the injured shade only asked for them to come
closer. The formling edged closer, but asked, how can I help? Once more the injured shade only beckoned them forward and they came within a shade length
to the formling. The formling now froze in fear, as they finally noticed a strange glinting wisp behind the injured shade. From behind the injured shade
the wisp cast the shadow that was before the formling, it still crying out. Before the formling could turn to run, the wisp darted forward and began
breaking down the formlings weave, pulling it thread by thread and consuming it, combining it into the injured shade's form.
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