Twenty Years Later

"Where is she? We agreed to meet here no later than an hour before sunfall." A lone figure adorning a hybrid of wolf hide and leather armor paced back and forth, nibbling on a nail. He was of smaller stature, though the lethal sharpness of his cheekbones and brown eyes, accompanied by the massive longbow dangling in his grasp spoke of a hardened warrior. To his left was a thick wall of forest that stretched on for miles, its end nowhere in sight. His home--no, their home, for as long as he could remember and a red flag of danger for any mortal foolish enough to enter.

Bane Forest

Meanwhile, a long stretch of plains resided to his right. A breeze unusually crisp and cool for the summer swayed the tall grass to and fro. These lands wrapped around kingdom territory like a divider between civilization and the unpredictable arcane. It was known to all tenants of the continent as simply The Flatlands.

"Likely swindling some poor survivor of the raid, brother." The answer came from a second man not too far off. He was seated among the foliage with his legs crossed and posture perfectly erect. And yet, an unyielding serenity seeped from him and seemed to ensnare his surroundings in a sluggish bubble of peace. Such a demeanor was jarring in comparison to his massive rippling muscles, grizzly facial hair, and dark skin. He patted the ground beside him. "Sit with me, Han. Fretting like that won't help you nor her."

Huffing, Han accepted the offer and begrudgingly plopped down next to his brother, who was also clad in similar armor. The only difference was a sledgehammer and longsword strapped to his person. Han grimaced as the larger man reached out to wipe a streak of blood from his chin, though it wasn't his own. "This is supposed to be swift and clean! Just as Mother commanded--"

"Suggested, actually."

"Do not patronize me, Que," Han snapped, only to recoil into himself immediately after. Que was by no means a hostile soul, but throwing one's negativity onto him seemed innately wrong and sinful. Face tinged pink, Han rested his cheek upon a fist and glared out into the fields, searching wildly for their sister.

The damnable troublemaker.

A thoughtful hum escaped Que as he unsheathed his longsword and rested it across his lap, followed by a smooth rock. He ran it along the blade with practiced precision. "I believe your nerves are clouding your patience, brother," he said.

Han heaved a withering sigh. "It is not."

"You fear that your Spirit Mark will not suit your expectations?"

Despite Que's tone lilting with a question, Han knew that nothing short of certainty toiled behind his brother's smile. Some days, the look infuriated him. Today was one of those days. "Don't be ridiculous! I'm... Mother's blessing will be the highest honor of all honors. I'd never complain, no matter the mark."

"And what of this mission?" An inkling of life seeped into Que. "Our objective was no different than usual. We've killed every bandit in that camp. Freed their slaves. Relieved them of their coin and burned the place to ashes. And yet, Mother feels the need to call this our rite of passage."

Han ran all five fingers through his shaved mane. "Is there a point to this? I was there as well, if you've forgotten."

"My point..." Teasingly, Que lifted his newly sharpened blade and admired its shine in the light of dusk. "Is that you're clearly worried, brother. You fear your performance to be less than satisfactory and thus somehow making you unworthy of receiving the mark today--"

"And why must I be blamed for feeling that way?" Finally, Han's true emotions peeked through and his anxiety became palpable. He turned to face his brother fully, eyes wide with plea. "Eighty seasons, brother. Twenty years of our lives have been building up to this moment! To proving our value to Mother! And now that the day is nigh, I..." Words failed him. However, as the man scrambled fruitlessly for the right thing to say, his and Que's senses locked onto the sound of footsteps.

Skipping, to be accurate. And terribly off-key humming.

While Han was quick to shoot to his feet, a lengthy scolding teetering on the tip of his tongue, Que took his sweet time when it came to moving, his smile warming at the sight of their sister approaching. "Where have you been?" Han screeched furiously.

Once she was within meters of reach, Han felt a familiar dread bubble up his gut as he realized she wasn't slowing down. In fact, his sister had broken out into a speedy run and her squeal rang out seconds before she tackled him into the grass.

"I've missed you as well, brother!" A cheek nuzzled enthusiastically against Han's, who was frozen in a mixture of bitter resignation and shock.

He regained enough of his wits to palm the woman's face and shoved her off, absolutely nothing gentle about the motion. "Gnetalia! Off, you invasive fiend!"

"Oh? A fiend? Your affectionate titles are becoming more and more creative, brother." Pure delight oozed from Gnetalia as she rolled off Han onto her back, crimson-smeared feet swinging daintily in the air. Her ruby red curtain of dreads splayed about the grass behind her like a pair of wings and the epitome of mischief shimmered in her soft blue eyes. An undying grin graced her lips, bright and deceitful of the deadliness lurking behind her strikes, and not a single centimeter of her torso seemed to be ink free. A conglomerate of tribal tattoos engulfed her chest, reaching her elbows, the skin just above her navel, and up the length of her throat until they kissed her jawline. Gnetalia would've begged Mother for more designs if the woman hadn't such a steely resolve.

"Oh, Talia," Que cooed while scooping both arms under Gnetalia's and lifting her like a feather. Like clockwork, she seated herself on the large man's shoulders and crossed her arms atop his head.

"Yes, brother?"

"Perhaps refrain from giving Han a heart attack? At least for such an important day? And why were you so tardy?"

"But Han is my main source of entertainment. You know this!" Just as quickly as her pout appeared, it was usurped by a triumphant smile. "I thought it only right to leave behind a parting gift for Totaris guards once they come upon the camp."

"I'm somewhat afraid to ask what this gift entails," Que said with a chuckle.

"Ah! If you must know, I'll tell you!" Talia dramatically pressed the back of her hand to her forehead while slapping the other over her heart. "Animal feces. In a sack... On fire."

Han's brow furrowed. "Where did you find--"

"Nature leaves behind many unexpected conveniences, brother," Talia countered. Her legs fell back into the habit of swinging and if the fact that her heels were knocking into Que's barrel chest bothered him, he didn't show it.

A withering sigh capable of putting a farmer during drought season to shame escaped Han. He pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting back a migraine. "Please... let us just go. I refuse to make Mother wait much longer. Nor our blessings."

Unperturbed, Talia raised her quarterstaff and pointed towards Bane Forest. "Onwards!"

"You're such a child," Han muttered. Regardless, he and his siblings vanished into the foliage with a startling swiftness in their step, and only Talia's rebuttal lingered on the breeze.

"But we're the same age."

🌢

As mentioned before, no mortal entered Bane Forest and lived to tell the tale. And for good reason. Bedtime stories and myths spoke of the forest housing the illest tempered creatures known to Totaris.

Witches.

They were a nomadic and hostile bunch, territorial above all else. What they lacked in physical strength, they made up for with their monstrous Creations, all results of their only available principle of magic, Conjuration. Beasts composed of tightly woven vines and thorns, mud minions no larger than a labrador but feistier than little devils, the physical embodiment of nightmares on wooden legs--the horrors were endless. Thus, no one dared to breach Bane Forest.

Except for the Inklings and their Mother. And what came as a historical shock to Totaris twenty years ago, Lord Vaashill's forces. They'd cleaved a path straight through the middle of Bane Forest, managing to avoid the wrath of witches through means that even the Inklings couldn't understand, and ventured into untouched lands.

"Talat, if I'm right? From whence you hail?"

"Your theory is as good as mine, Talia," Que said while walking down a trench of hacked trees and mutilated foliage hundreds of feet wide. The Serpent's Gullet, Totaris peasants called it. Talia hummed thoughtfully while toying with Que's dark coils, still enjoying her seat on his shoulders.

"It cannot be from anywhere else. Talat refugees look exactly like you and came to Totaris immediately after Vaashill slaughtered and enslaved your people."

"Talia!" Han hissed. "Perhaps adopt a little more tact?"

However, Que raised a hand in pardon. "No worries. I have little connection to Talat. Whatever culture, whatever way of life, whatever ancestors lie on the other end of this forest, it means nothing to me." Warmth touched his visage. "You, Han and Mother are my family. I have no need for anything else in this world."

Han found himself speechless in response and his cheeks flushed a light pink of embarrassment; in stark contrast, Talia cupped the sides of Que's head and pecked his crown, accompanied by an obnoxiously loud smack. "This is why you are my favorite," she said.

Han rolled his eyes.

🌢

"My nose itches, brother."

"Quiet!"

Talia snapped her mouth shut at Han's discretion, but it didn't wipe the pout from her face. The trio of siblings were seated in the heart of their home, resting on their knees with hands pressed flat to their lap.

The Inklings Cove, above all venues in Totaris, proved to be the only one unseen. Mother had hinted her magic being the main cause of this; some sort of cloaking enchantment, but the siblings never learned the details. Their homebase was both simple and grand; a massive oak tree stood miles above the rest of Bane Forest, its mighty trunk twisting in a near perfect spiral, and its roots curved above ground like a pit of giant snakes. A lever and pulley lift was stationed at the bottom of these roots, which transported one to an arched entrance. A network of chambers and corridors and levels were crafted within the trunk from below ground to the base of the northern most branches. Chambers varied in size and purpose, such as ones dedicated to training, meal preparation, supper, and personal sleeping quarters.

And then there was Mother's chamber.

A place that the Inklings have never once set foot in. Until now.

The siblings could admit that their fantasies had overestimated reality. Unlike what they predicted, Mother's abode was incredibly barren, yet every inch radiated a presence that reminded them of her. Her impossibly spicy yet refreshing scent of pepper flakes, mint and jasmine. Whispers of her voice teasing the cusp of their ears, only to retreat before they could even consider its existence. Nuances of something far more than what it appeared to be. An enigma trapped in oak walls.

However, there was one anomaly present.

In the middle of the room was an incantation circle carved into the ground. Three rings grew in width from center to rim and archaic symbols adhered to the edges of two of them, while a single droplet filled the smallest circle. The drop obviously represented ink magic, but whatever language the symbols hailed from remained a mystery. Finally, a triangle touched just an inch outside the incantation circle, and each corner pointed at its corresponding sibling.

Talia to the north.

Han to the southeast.

And Que to the southwest.

They've waited hours for Mother's appearance, yet there was no sign of her. The wait had only eaten away at Han's nerves, who was visibly shaking at the fists, while Talia found it necessary to combat the silence with randomness.

"There is a peculiar scuff mark on the ceiling," she observed, "Its shape reminds me of a mare's arse."

"Why specifically a mare?" Que asked.

Talia shrugged. "I'm uncertain. There is just something unique and unforgettable about their form."

"...Should I be concerned, sister?"

Talia flashed a challenging smirk. "A marvelous question, indeed. Should you?"

"No more worried than I am about your infatuation with pranks."

"Life requires a balance of work and play--"

"Would you both please!" Han's roar echoed and bounced off the walls. For a moment, he feared that Talia was about to launch into a battle of wit against him, but the trio froze when a realization struck them at the same time. Vibrations in the air had yet to fade; in fact, they intensified, more and more until an audible hum made their bones quiver. "She's coming," Han said, breathless and riveted and downright drowning in nervousness. He and his siblings erected their postures in preparation.

Small puddles of black spurted from the ground and leaked, before slithering across the wood like sentient slugs. They meshed together at the center of the circle, writhing and interweaving into a steadily growing fluid mosaic. Bubbling reminiscent of a witch's cauldron clashed with the vibrations, producing a dissonance so biting that the Inkling's jaws clenched. More and more quaking, yet it felt as if only their bodies endured the phenomenon while the chamber remained steady. Soon, the mass morphed into a humanoid shape and its surface gradually peeled away to reveal skin as pale as pearls. The remaining ink lurched before its last string was clipped and splattered across the floor. Like a sponge, they were soaked back into the oak and vanished like a forgotten memory.

Mother stood before her children in all her ethereal glory.

At first glance, one would think her a queen, though not a single strand of her robes were a shade lighter than midnight. Her sleeves flowed well past her arms and grazed bare feet, while twin strips trailed behind her like the flattened tail of a peacock. Jet black waves cascaded past her shoulders and shimmered against absent light. The natural arch of her eyebrows, full lips, and stunning visage granted her a charm that no mortal could resist, and three black droplets ran across forehead from one side to the other, though the middle was surrounded by a simple swirl.

She'd be mistaken for a human, if it wasn't for the red pools glowing around her dark pupils, completely devoid of white.

"Arise, my children." Her voice was the home of many. All female, yet strangely different from one another, as if she was a vessel for every woman's soul wandering the afterlife. Without missing a beat, the Inklings rose and bowed at the waist.

"Mother."

"Your patience is admirable... I am the proudest a mother can be." An undeniable comfort flooded the siblings' veins like honey. "And I believe... twenty years of patience deserves a reward." She moved from one Inkling to the next, but her feet didn't make a single sound. She gently caressed their cheeks with a finger as she passed them. "The bestowal of your Spirit Mark."

Then, she paused.

Energy in the air shifted. Stiffened.

"Speak now and I shall not fault you for your hesitance. This contract is a binding of two souls in one body. Of give and take. Of deep trust. A bond that'll stretch beyond words and action and thought... From henceforth, you shall be granted marvelous abilities... at the price of connecting your souls forever." Silence ruled the room, but it was Han who gathered the courage to shatter it.

"We are ready, Mother," he said, his throat bobbing with a gulp, "Please." A sense of knowing eased into the Ink Witch's expression and she neared her child in one fluid motion to tenderly cup his cheeks.

"My beloved Yjeer'Han. Natural born leader and protector of the Inklings. Steadfast and true is the only rhythm your heart beats... until it stutters with self doubt." Han's tongue was stuffed with cotton, but he hung onto her every word. "You fight valiantly to block this doubt from your ears... which I adore and fear for you. Be sure to slow down and remember to listen in times of crisis."

She let these cryptic words simmer in Han's mind as she meandered over to Que and cupped his cheeks as well. It was a tad of a stretch due to his hulking height. "My Que, the soul and glue of my children, and the tenderest heart these lands have to offer."

"Never as tender as yours," Que breathed.

"And so quick to satisfy the feelings of another... before your own," Mother continued. A certain sadness fluttered behind her gaze, then fled before Que could think to notice. "Peace is drawn to you like moths to a flame, do not forget to accept it. A moment of selfishness breeds years more of selflessness." Bewildered, Que nodded and watched as Mother brought herself face to face with the final Inkling--Talia.

"Last, but most certainly not the least, my wonderful troublemaker." A wisp of a chuckle swam about Mother's voices, but Gnetalia had latched onto the sound like a lifeline. She briefly touched their foreheads together and expelled a laugh of her own.

"Please, Mother, do not forget devilishly charming and irresistible," Talia said.

"I would never..." Mother tucked a stray dread behind her child's ear. "Your light stuns the sun with envy, dear Gnetalia. You seek the fruits bared by both worlds and open your arms to all. I only ask of you, desperately so, my child," A heavy weight fell between them and it happened so suddenly that Talia momentarily forgot how to breathe, "To never, ever, loosen your grasp on that light. As the shadows of our world cannot exist without it."

"I would never." Talia maintained just enough of her coyness to use Mother's own words against her, though she lacked the playful tone. A ball of confusion sat in the pit of her gut. Just a seedling, but one that was planted deeply and had room to grow.

She did not know what to make of Mother's plea.

The Ink Witch backed away and swept her gaze about the room, locking eyes with each Inkling. Then, she nodded. "Han is right. You're ready."

She snapped her fingers and pitch black dominated the room. It slithered and closed the gaps around them like a malleable sheet of tar, leaving only the incantation circle untouched. With a gentle whir, a dark purple haze emitted from the carvings and warmed the siblings' skin, pulsating with archaic mana.

"Hold your breaths, my loves," Mother whispered, "The pain shall only last a moment."

The Inklings didn't have a chance to register her warning.

An unseen force threw them off their feet and slammed their backs to the walls, thoroughly pinned in place and the weight bearing down on them like the hands of gods. Long and spindly ribbons of ink ripped themselves free of the circle and skittered along the ground like demon arachnids. They climbed up the siblings' bodies, creating the sensation of lava dragging across their skin. Their pained screams pounded against Mother's ears and threatened to break her heart in two, but she pushed on.

Interrupting the bond of a Spirit Mark promised death.

The horrific entities came to a stop at the warriors' torsos, then phased through their armor. Merged with their beings. The invasion burned no less than before; in fact, the agony worsened and spread to the very tips of their limbs. Their howls and screeches turned guttural, intermingling with the noise of sizzling skin. Smoke billowed from different parts of the Inklings' bodies, where the contours of a black tattoo burned itself into them.

The gaping maws of a wolf circled around Han's left pectoral, the shell and fins of a tortoise embedded itself into the center of Que's back, and the cackling gape of a monkey made home below Talia's navel. Their Hell on earth lasted for as long as the Spirit Marks languidly drew themselves onto their new hosts. Seconds. Minutes. Hours. They lost grasp of time altogether.

Until it was over.

Each Inkling was freed. They collapsed to their hands and knees, labored pants and gasps working their lungs raw. Sweat rolled down their faces by the pint. Mother snapped once more and the chamber returned to its normal state. Not a single speck of darkness was to be seen nor a glimpse of the ominous glow emitted from the incantation circle.

And yet, as her children opened their eyes, an entirely different light spilled forth.

Their pupils burned a blood red similar to her own.

Mother knelt until she was leveled with them and lowered her voice to a fragile yet empowering murmur. "With this power, you shall complete the task you've trained your whole lives for. My children..." All three heads snapped up, bathing her with their exhausted and undivided attention.

"You must eliminate Lord Vaashill before the impending lunar eclipse and bring his head to me. Or else our world will face a punishment of godly proportions."