Pepper / INK /

The Inkwalker lives

It was later that week when the two other Inkwalkers were shown for who they really were. With all the friends, and the group now colloquially called ’the seven’ gathered, they were given their Ink, and their guardians. Everyone arrived at the shop which, through runes and prayers had been certified as a safe place.

"Yedi arkadaş ," was the phrase often used later of the taskforce. "The seven friends," which were those who knew the Inkwalkers.  (), Sebastian, Max, Jessie, Claire, John, and Kari.

"It’s been a long time since I’ve done this Max." Daniel said. "It’s been a hundred years since I’ve stood at one of these, and seventy at least since I’ve done one."

"It’ll come back to you." Max said with a smile. "Besides, Inkaru won’t let you mess it up too badly."

"It’d better, I don’t want to screw this up."

He looked around, hoping they hadn’t forgotten anything, but the candles were lit, the moon was shining, the Alchemy circles were drawn, and at the very center sat the basin of moon quartz. Beside each Inkwalker stood the man who was going to guard him, and each Guardian carried an ink bottle.

Finally Daniel took a deep breath and started. "I know this is early, and that some of you are remiss in training, but the ink is already found, and has chosen you, so I have decided that in light of the battle, you have earned your ink. Even in the heat of battle, you would not kill a man who was not fighting you. And that is a hard thing to do, keep your wits in the middle of a battle."

"Jordan, your father gave his life trying to protect you from harm. And he was willing to take on the name of "Şanssız yedi," or an ’unlucky seven,’ what we call anyone passed over by the ink, rather than risk being judged by it. The ink your family holds is ancient, and from the south. Your ink names itself Inkeshu, the brother to the ink I wear, Inkaru. With these honored souls, and righteous men as your witness, do you promise to uphold the laws of the ink, to only judge as the ink allows, to eschew all claims of revenge for the sake of the Ink, and above all to avoid all manner of dark arts, but especially the darkest of them, Blood alchemy?"

"This I swear." Jordan was kneeling before the basin.

Daniel had a small tattoo gun with him. "And is it your will to take this ink, signified by the giving of blood, in the form of a tattoo?"

"It is." The guardian handed over the Ink, it went from trusted hand to trusted hand. From righteous man to Inkwalker.

Daniel used a spell, not only to keep the young Inkwalker from moving, but also to heal the tattoo as soon as it was completed. It was one of the few spells that worked even against an Inkwalker, and as such it was all but forbidden for anyone not associated with the ink. But it did help in cases like this. With the boy unable to even flinch he applied the tattoo over the birthmark on the back of his neck, and then with a touch and a wash of blue-white magic, it was set. It hurt, a lot. Weeks worth of pain rolled into a few seconds. Screams and tears were not unheard of, nor were they looked down on. But with it done, there was now proof he was Inkwalker.

When the boy found his voice again he spoke. "I swear by the moon that gives us pale light, and by the ink itself, which is my judge, in all things I will defer to the ink in times of judgement. That I will listen to the ink’s guidance that I will uphold not just the law of men, but the deeper law of justice and magic. I will judge when I must, and only as much as I must, that I will, in all ways strive to keep myself as an honorable man."

The ink slimed out of the basin, wrapping itself around his wrists and starting from there began to crawl up his arms and then down his body. It only took a few minutes before the ink flashed and the process was over.

"Have you chosen your mark?"

"I have," Jordan said. "I have too big of a heart sometimes, and I hesitate when I shouldn’t, trusting those who are not trustworthy, so for that reason I want my mark to be the heart and dagger, a reminder to myself that I must defend my heart at all cost, both a caution to watch who I trust, and a reminder to trust who I watch."

Daniel nodded. "Then say your obligations and be ready."

The boy said his prayers and sat down in the chair provided, the machine had already been altered with the silver needle that the Inkwalkers used.

Jordan’s Guardian, John held his hand, lending him support and strength. Taking a tattoo was hard, taking one for religious reasons was harder still. As the last line of the ink came together, the ink on his entire body glowed blue-white, and the ink rippled and roiled taking on its first forms. Daniel didn’t have to heal this one. The ink did it itself. A little more slowly, and with less pain. By morning the tattoo would look like it was weeks old. There were, of course, the trinity on his chest, Charon, Azrail, and Cerebus, but some of the others were sigils still. They would change and grow as the boy trained more, and they would find out what particular tattoos he would have. Every Inkwalker had a different collection based on their own weaknesses and strengths.

Afterword his Guardian swore, now with his Inkwalker in attendance to protect him, and promised at a later date of the Inkwalker’s choosing to take Ink. But again, neither of them knew which Ink would be needed. What sort of guardian he would need to shore up what even his own ink couldn’t.

"Shum, are you ready?"

"I am." The Raven said. "We have made the required obligations for the changes needed,"

"Good." The same process was repeated with Shum, though his thoughts were voiced by the Raven, as his hands would soon be preoccupied. His mark was the crossed blades, a sign of being overly defensive. He would have to learn how to trust. With the dagger as Jordan’s, he’d use a pole arm most likely, the form you called your first time tended to be the weapon you always had. The tattoo didn’t always directly correlate to the weapon, and in this case, that was true. After both of them were tattooed and everything was properly witnessed, they went out to eat, each of them dressed in their finery, in the morning, they would present themselves before the Central cog to be proclaimed as the Guardians of the cities, and they had already spoken. When the boys were done training in a couple years, they wanted to go out to some of the outer cities, help the ones still there, rebuild the ones that weren’t. Shum, as Veronica’s child, chose to go back out to the Emmett homestead and rebuild, and then he would go out to Cold Iron and bring the Justice of the moon to the lost city.

#

The dead were gathered, some wrapped, and draped in cloth, they were interred back in their graves, but the two dead Inkwalkers were dressed as only an Inkwalker could be, in their finery, with the silver burial mask that all Lunar Inkwalkers wore, it was supposed to help protect them from being used as a Risen or a Becomer. The mask was called "the mask of Ay Dede"

It bore the crescent moon, and runes of protection and peace. But on the inside was a curse for anyone who chose to disturb the dead. It was rare for an Inkwalker to be disturbed and no one nowadays remembered what that curse was, it had been so long since it had last been tempted.

The streets leading up to the Botanical garden were lined with people. Jordan and his Guardian carried Robert, and Max and Daniel carried Damien. It was one of the few times an Inkwalker could not use magic. Bran sat watching them from a perch above the door to the moon house where they would be laid. Daniel had already dug the graves himself. And there was a song, a lament, heard no other time, than when an Inkwalker was laid to rest, it followed them all the way to their final resting place and continued until the Procession had returned without the bodies to begin their trek back.

The procession walked slowly, lead by death, and in this case, followed by death as well. Their heads were down though, and they leaned on their scythes, here to honor the Inkwalkers being laid to rest. Guardians only, they were here to make sure no one chose to try to raise the dead. And a cold wind followed as the lament wailed in the streets below them.

The procession wound its way through town and up the hill, all the way to the botanical gardens. Most people who didn’t know, didn’t understand that moon lily could only grow on the graves of Inkwalkers and their families. In the day, while the plants slept, the bodies were carried to the Botanical gardens, and there interred next to the Other Inkwalkers and their kin who slept there. The stones were clear to see, made of moon quartz. One stone was blank, But there were two there that bore the name of "Emmett" The Inkwalker’s wives. Only one of his children was here, but now a daughter of his sister was here, Veronica. And now the two others would be added to the garden.

During the day the lilies looked normal, closed, heads drooped, leaves making a sort of skirt, but under the light of the moon, the plants took on a life of their own. While they could not uproot themselves, they could grow vines, or some said roots, to pull others down, usually Necromancers and Becomers, and they could create a sort of hallucinogen that the Inkwalkers prized. Moon lily pollen, called Dream Dust, was the smell that the taskforce remembered. And it was here, standing in a rough circle saying prayers and obligations, that the spell finally broke for the others. And all of them finally knew that smell of safety, it was Moon lily.

They would have liked to stay longer, but they had to go, leaving before the lily could wake with the light of the moon, besides there were many others to be seen to. The lament came to an end at the end of the verse, with the two Inkwalkers, and the two Deaths standing side by side to hear it. And as soon as it was over, the pair of deaths disappeared, only the Crow, Bran remained, flitting on ahead to oversee.

The Inkwalkers walked among the families of the fallen, touching them, and touching the graves, or the stones, wishing them peace and security. Blessing their families and healing those who could be healed. Easing the symptoms of those who could not. Children left gifts for the raven, nuts, or shiny things, tokens for the dead, and it would, on occasion bob its head and allow a child to pet it.

There were those in their Solar finery, their colors subdued in honor of the dead, and there were the Lunars wearing their tunics and cloaks, their veils over their faces to hide tears. But even through the sadness there was a new hope. There was a chance now, the dead were gone, but the Inkwalkers were here. And what was wrong had been set right. So many women sang and danced in the procession, proclaiming an end to their sorrow and disappointment. Justice had returned to them.

And before the sun was down, all the dead had been put back to rest, all sign of their walking had been erased. Moving water and earth to bury the bodies was easy. And they were soon laid next to the others.

With the Dead taken care of and the moon rising, Max stopped Daniel. "I want to take my Ink" he said. "Tonight, before the moon sets, I want to take my Ink. I refuse to leave you unguarded any longer." Max said.

"It will be as you wish."

#

With the dead seen to the seven had retired to the Tattoo shop to see to Max’s tattoo, after that it would be drinks and celebration. But things didn’t go exactly as planned. Daniel had been washing his hands, ceremonially, dipping them in the water with the prayer of cleansing, and something stopped him. The water felt- wrong. He didn’t know how else to explain it. He dipped his hands again, closing his eyes and listening to the ink. The ink was afraid, whatever evil tainted the water even the ink feared it. But the ink knew it, and recognized it.

"Where did this water come from?" His voice was low and urgent.

"My house," Claire said. "Why?"

"It’s tainted." Daniel said simply. He spoke words and the water glowed blue with black swirls in it and then solid blue again as the moonlight burned away the plague. "It’s shadow plague or at least that’s what Inkaru says. He says it feels like what was making us sick before."

"What do we do?" Claire asked.

All thoughts of the tattoo were forgotten as they began to talk. If Claires water was tainted, this could only be the beginning. Of course, no one had thought about the fact that there were two different strains of Shadow plague, they had all assumed they had come from the same place and one was just a mutation of the manipulated strain. The strain damien had been plagued with was natural, it came from his mother. It was not, as they had first assumed, the presidium strain. It was however, Shadow Plague and just as virulent. It was also the version doing most of the damage in the city.

"We need to call the police and have them and Magic services test the water supply."

It took a while for Magic services to believe them. But when they finally tested the water, it was tainted. It was tainted with plague. And not just her water, the other buildings in her cutout too. And the call went out immediately.

"Those in solar district Six, refrain from drinking the water." And Magic Services, dressed in the full hazard suits and protected by spells and sigils went looking for the plague in the water supply. They almost didn’t find it, but then one of them noticed that a bypass valve marked as ’off’ on the schematics was actually on. And that there was a dark stain on the concrete near one of the treatment bypasses.

It took three blasts to break the spell hiding it, but when the spell finally crumbled and revealed what was there, everyone gasped. Gold bands and fans and gears moved in a hypnotic fashion like a fascinator, but that wasn’t what had made them gasp.

Protected by a magic engine was a small glass tube, and inside was what was obviously blood, the crimson liquid bubbled and flowed around the tubes of the machine, dripping back into the vial from whence it had come. And from the machine dripped a black ooze that stained the concrete beneath, running down into the water below.

Magic Services took the machine, protected by spells and blankets and got it as far from the water as they could. It took some hours of tinkering to stop the engine driving the machine. But they didn’t know that eight others were still there. This one had activated prematurely. None of them were supposed to be running, but somehow this one had managed to start on its own and without command. It would be a long time before they knew about the other devices, or why they were there. It would be even longer before anyone knew whose blood was being used or why. But that is part of another story.

;>;;>;;>;;

Next Chapter: Aftermath