• тωєиту-тωσ ωєєкѕ •
"So, Aphmau, is it alright to ask about your tattoos?"
I nodded, allowing the king to continue. Aaron, Melissa, their parents, and I sat in the ballroom. The rulers of Falcon Claw sat on stools across from Aaron and me while Melissa playfully bounced between everyone.
The gardens didn't get fully finished last week, but they were finished a few days ago and now the ballroom was fully open to the blooming gardens. It was quite popular, and we had all decided to rest inside so I could relax without my cloak and gloves. Well, they decided. I didn't care.
"Do they all have importance to you?"
I shrugged, glancing down to the ink lining my arm. "Some of them do. Others were simply done because I was bored and love the artistic freedom. It's a way of expression, so I just said 'why not?' and kept going.
"I'm even open to getting one now. It's been on my mind recently, as it's been—" I did a quick mental calculation "—seven years since I last got one? I think that's right. Anyway, I was thinking of getting a tattoo of Falcon Claw."
Aaron's father and mother looked shocked, but his mother spoke up first. "You would do that?"
Smiling, I glanced back to the open doors that gave me a clear view of the flowers. "Well, I don't intend on willingly leaving Falcon Claw anytime soon."
"Aaron can show you to our artist if you're serious?"
"You have an artist?" I questioned, tilting my head. Melissa ran into my arms laughing and I responded kindly with a giggle and hug before sending her off to Aaron. He laughed as well before responding.
"Yup. He's forty-something now, but he's done a lot of tattoos for the guards. It's tradition to get inked when you become an official guard member, but not everyone does it."
"That's awesome," I whooped. "There was nothing like that when I grew up in my hometown."
"You want me to bring you there?"
"Sure, why not?" I decided in less than a second that I wanted to do this. This place is truly a part of me, and I don't know how I've survived not having a piece of it physically with me at all times.
Other than Aaron, but not even we're together twenty-four seven.
When we got into the main hall of the castle Aaron explained that the man who does the tattoos doesn't live in the castle, but rather prefers to live in the urban center of the kingdom. Supposedly he gets inspiration there for his work and lives with a perfect view.
The man's house certainly lived beyond my expectations. It was two stories tall but wasn't much bigger than my house. A window on the top floor gave jut the perfect access of view to see people's feet walking by on the upper street levels.
The man himself was indeed in his forties, with brown and gray hair that touched his shoulders as well as a beard and mustache in the same color. He was built surprisingly strong for an artist. I would have expected him to be more of a guard.
"Hello, how can I help you today, your highness?" He smiled, and I noticed as Aaron explained our situation that he seemed very at ease with me. I guess more and more people were accepting the fact that a top-class bloodsucker was their neighbor.
"Ah, very well. Come on in, take a seat," he motioned to two small sofa-padded chairs and we followed his orders as he grabbed a sketch pad and pen. "Any idea what you're looking for?"
I shrugged helplessly and he hummed, dipped the pen in an ink tray, and began sketching. I'm normally quite a patient person, but I found that I had to stop myself from peaking to see the artistry at work. I'm not an artist in the drawing or painting sense, but more with lyrics and music. If that's even talent in my case.
While he lost himself in the sketch, I took time to explore his home with my eyes. There wasn't a spot of empty space on the walls. Every inch was covered in paintings done on canvas and variations of paper, while ink and lead sketches hid behind a few. Tools were also in high supply - paintbrushes, pens, pencils, even bizarre items like steel wool and spoons hung on the walls and scattered all available surfaces. It was a mess, but I found an organization in the madness. Part of my mind I guess, how I can unscramble fighting techniques so easily.
"What about these?"
I glanced back quickly as if I had been paying attention the whole time, and found three bird silhouettes drawn simple in black ink. Just my style.
One had open wings like it was soaring in a turn, another had wings closed like it was perched on a branch. The final was a more unique style like it was raising its wings before a dive, and that was my personal favorite.
Once the design was decided, we went on to think of location. Eventually I decided it would look best on my left shoulder blade, available so I could show it off as long as I wasn't in the sun.
He sat me down on a chair so that my legs straddled the back and my arms could rest. Then the design was traced on my skin in simple pen ink.
"Oh!" I exclaimed, remembering my past experiences with tattoos. The ink was put under the first layers of skin, embedded in the second. However, with my healing, it was slightly different.
He froze, looking to me and lowering the sharp instrument.
"I heal almost instantly, so you might have to put the ink a bit deeper. It won't hurt me, but there will also be more blood, sorry."
Shrugging, he grabbed a second rag and set it on his lap for later use. Following my advice, he pressed the ink-covered iron through my skin and dragged it slowly to follow the lines he sketched.
Aaron sat in front of me, so we were face to face as the art was being created. The tattoo didn't hurt much, so I stared him down almost like a competition to see who would blink first. Not that he was doing well, as he kept glancing back to my shoulder when the blood rose. The artist didn't flinch and instead wiped it away every time.
It took maybe a half hour to complete the solid design, and he showed me in a mirror when it was done.
I loved it.
"Thank you so much!"
He shrugged it off and allowed us to use his back door to exit through the farms.
Because of my quick healing, I didn't need bandages over the new ink like everyone else, so I had full range of my arm to do what I pleased. I gladly used the freedom to run my hand through the scratchy plants of wheat as we made our way back to the castle to show off my tattoo.
We were walking through the town again, making small conversation when a group of kids ran by. I recognized them from the orphanage.
"Aphy! Play with us!" The youngest shouted.
I bit my lip and turned to Aaron, then to the sky when he nodded. Cloudy, most likely not for long.
"Five minutes, all right?"
They cheered and pulled me over to a wider stretch of pavement. I was passed the ball, a small leather sack filled with sand that was heavier than the kids made it seem.
I don't think there was any point to this game, there was no method — it was more like hot potato than anything, just passing the ball around in random order. I picked out some of it pretty fast. Every time someone didn't catch it, they stepped back. You're out.
Too bad for them. I'm competitive.
One of the kids was around seven and had a good arm. I nearly missed it, instead reaching far enough that my foot caught on the gravel and I nearly tripped. I rolled into another standing position and tossed it back.
"Do a flip!" Someone cheered. I laughed, and the kids passed me the ball in excitement.
Aaron was maybe twenty feet away, talking to a citizen I didn't know. He was a good prince, gotta give him that.
Hm. The sun is still behind the clouds. Twenty feet. No wind. High chance if accuracy. . .
Keeping one foot on the ground, I dropped my head to the floor and pivoted on one foot, bringing the other above me with my movement. Ball still in hand, I threw it fast enough with a planned angle that I knew I'd hit my target.
Sure enough, the ball hit Aaron on his upper arm, just below his shoulder.
He jumped, looking for the culprit and finding me with a smirk. Kids jumped around me and laughed, one going to retrieve the ball while I wiggled my brows at the prince.
Rolling his eyes, he kept a smile on his face and started walking. I said bye to the orphaned children and jogged to catch up to his long stride.
And with that, we walked back into the castle laughing.
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ι вσтн ℓσνє αи∂ нαтє нανιиg тσ ¢σмє υρ ωιтн αℓтєяиαтє мєтнσ∂ѕ σf мσ∂єяи ѕтυff fσя мє∂ιєναℓ ѕтσяιєѕ. ι мєαи, тαттσσ gυиѕ ∂ιι∂ит єχα¢тℓу єχιѕт ιи мι∂ιєναℓ тιмєѕ.
му gσαℓ fσя тнιѕ тσ∂αу ωαѕит тσ ρσѕт ιт σи тιмє, вυт яαтнєя тσ ρσѕт ιт αт αℓℓ, ѕσ ιтѕ ρяσвαвℓу ℓαтє тσ уσυ gυуѕ, вυт ιм σкαу ωιтн тнαт. тнιѕ ¢нαρтєя ιѕит вα∂.
ωαттρα∂ αρραяєитℓу ωσит ℓєт мє υѕє α gιf αт тнє тσρ ѕσ нєяє уα gσ:
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