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Hunter knew it was risky. If it went wrong, he would not only lose his magic for good, but he would also lose Flapjack forever. But he would gain so much more if it worked.
He had asked Dell for help with the carving and had spent weeks in the archives studying old manuscripts. What he wanted to try had never been attempted before, but he was certain he would succeed. Even if it hurt.
He hadn't told the others that he was going to do it today. They knew his plan and supported him, but Hunter knew they would stop him if he went too far, and he had to go that far, or he wouldn't have a chance to bring Flapjack back to life. “We can do this, Flap,” Hunter said, lovingly stroking the wooden carved bird. Lady Bat had confirmed that the wood they had used came from the same tree that Flapjack had once come from. However, due to its age, the wood no longer possessed any magic of its own, and therefore no Palismen could be created from it. It was likely, though, that it would react to Flapjack’s magical note, and Hunter was counting on that.
Breathing deeply in and out, he sat cross-legged on the floor with the wooden bird on his knees. He focused on his magic, trying first to channel it and then to direct it toward the bird on his knee. It took him a while to succeed, and even longer before he felt the pull. He breathed a sigh of relief. It was no use trying to force it. The wood had to accept the magic and draw it in.
“Okay,” Hunter said, opening a small vial and looking at it with a mixture of fear and confidence before downing it in one go. Immediately, a sharp pain shot through him, and he doubled over slightly. Gritting his teeth, he straightened up again and focused the painfully throbbing magic within him on the wooden bird in front of him. If it could work, it would only be with the illegal magic amplifiers that Belos has had made. Using them was risky and dangerous, which is why they were all destroyed. But when he found a vial of it in a buried archive, he knew this was his only chance.
“For Flapjack!” he shouted as he directed his magic at the bird with full force.
The magic flashed so brightly that it blinded him, and with a loud bang, the shockwave knocked him over. His ears were ringing and his vision was blurry as he sat up in pain, clutching his head. His whole body tingled, and slowly he began to make out vague outlines again. He could make out a small red shadow, though it was blurry. His heart skipped a beat, and quietly, almost as if he didn’t want to get his hopes up too much, he asked, “Flap?”
He heard a curious chirp, and tears welled up in his eyes as the red shadow hopped onto his knee to tug at a long, loose strand of his hair.
Tears streamed down his face and blurred his vision once again, but it didn't matter. It had worked, and Flapjack was alive.
Chirping happily, the little bird fluttered around his head, nudged him with his beak, and pressed his little head against Hunter's cheek as Hunter gently stroked his feathers.
“Welcome home, Flap,” Hunter said happily, smiling through his sniffles. He’d done it, he’d saved his friend and his family.