Pharryl frowned, examining the box. He turned it upside down, thumped it with his fingers, eyed the gap between the lid and the lip, ran fingertips over the surface, even sniffed at the fine cloth lining inside.

"Perfect. Absolutely perfect." He picked up another box, making a disgusted sound. "All six of them."

"Must mean I have a good teacher," Parry tried, standing beside his bench in the workshop.

"Don't flatter me," Pharryl snapped. "You've been getting my lessons right on the first try, every time. Even while I watched. Look at these dovetails!"

He thrust the small keepsake box under his son's nose, a bit dramatically. "I can't even see the scribe lines. And yes, I looked under the velvet. You'll have to re-glue it."

The older adept stomped over to the scrap bin. "Where's the waste? You got all the boxes out of just two boards." He rummaged around, pulling out a wood knot trimmed so close it looked like a circle in an octagon. "I'm surprised you didn't turn this into toothpicks."

Parry carefully noted on his slate: "Make...toothpicks..."

"No! Gods above, below and between, Parry, no one gets it right on the first time. You never showed this much attention to detail before. Even the grain selection, that board with the twist, you ripped it down to relieve the strain, then cross-cut. I didn't teach you that."

"I just watched and did what you did?" Parry's voice wasn't terribly convincing, even to him.

"And picked up the judgment and efficiency of someone with twenty years' experience. On the first try. You glued both sides of the velvet, let it get tacky, then applied. You chased out the bubbles with a dull chisel. A dull one! Do you know what apprentices are supposed to do with dull chisels?"

"Sha--"

"SHARPEN them. Not think they have a dozen uses as they are. And the dovetail jig you built, did you just guess the angle? You haven't touched my compass."

"It felt very 22.5 degrees."

"Felt."

"It was easier after the third box, Father."

He could see the older man wrestling with two very different emotions: pride and embarrassment. Little smiles kept threatening to displace his 'I am the expert here' frown.

"Alright. Fine. It's time I told you the purpose of these boxes, and why you had to make them. Have a seat, Parry. Listen. This is very sophisticated wood shaper magic."

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Parry took diligent notes, pretending he hadn't mastered [Nesting] lifetimes ago. He let wonder appear in his expression at the process, which did a fine job repairing Pharryl's ego.

[Nesting] is useful, even critical, he told himself while scribbling on his slate. There'll be no way to build a Divine Heart without putting more inside than can fit. And it's exactly what I need to get the rust off these new spells:

[Point Towards Home] Cost: 1 [Angel at My Shoulder] Cost: 5 [Finders Keepers] Cost: 1 / day [Repeater] Cost: 1 [[Friend of Fabric]] . [[Friend of Wood]] . [[Friend of Metal]] .

The Ritual of the Second Step doubled Parry's magic skill slots. He'd filled them with categories which held foundational spells, along with one full enchantment at Pharryl's insistence.

They'd fought over it. Parry wanted [[Friend of Stone]] or [[Friend of Air]] or at least [[Friend of Water]], but his father had been adamant about [Repeater].

"Don't underestimate the power of consistency," Pharryl had argued, quite persuasively. "Being able to do something precisely a second time--or a third, or fourth--the moment after doing it once, that makes for uniform results, better products and thus more powerful shaping. You can make friends with other elements when you're older."

If his father was going to guard the gateways to progress, demanding perfection before allowing him more power, Parry would happily provide. After all, he knew how to shape with the skill of a grand-master, even if he lacked the strength and the practice.

Parry called up the [[Friend of Wood]] category:

[Bark to Board] Level 9 Cost: 4 [Cut and Join] Level 6 Cost: 5 [Nesting] Level 5 Cost: 7 [Consumption] Level 6 Cost: 4

They shared his Refine, Assembling, Finishing and Turnaround levels, each a reflection of that aspect of shaping. The potential for growth brought a secret smile to Parry's face, which his father interpreted as comprehension.

"Give it a try, Parry. Use [Nesting] to fit each box into the other. And no complaining they're all exactly the same size! That's the point of the magic."

Parry sketched the plan on his slate, drawing the lines quickly, with confident chalk strokes. Then he held them in a stack. In his mind, he held a squirming, very uncomfortable Styak.

Hold still now.

"How DARE you!" raged the kitten.

Just a little squeeze...

Power flowed through the conduits Parry drew when he bound the demon. Power he could use.

All six boxes flowed together into a single, perfectly straight shape.

Pharryl blinked.

"Dammit! First try!"