Cassie Parsons as #Inkwww.thecruxseries.com
From The Crux
Chapter 10: Sweet Little Lies
“Ink,” I snap, “isn’t she that young tattoo artist who was murdered by
her lover?”
“Brutally so,” Grace confirms, “the Controller ordered Etheria to retrieve her soul to be Remade.” “He saw something in her, sensed her abilities,so she stayed in his private domain for some time after.”
“She is a Seer and Teleporter?” I clarify.
“Yes,” Grace affirms. “She displayed her prophetic abilities in quite an unusual way, revealing the future through the markings on her body. If she makes physical contact with a person a psychic connection is established and a new image is elaborately etched into her flesh. The markings vary in how long they remain but the deeper the connection, the longer they reside.”
“How do these tattoos tell the future?” Sasha chimes in.
“They change,” Grace explains, “reciting a story that consistently transforms as the originator’s journey trudges on.” “If she focuses her psychic energy into the marking, she can foretell what it will detail by the end of that journey.”
“How do you know this?” I skeptically prod.
“I have seen it firsthand,” Grace acknowledges.
“And there is no record of this why?” I distrustfully query.
“The Controller wanted her protected,” Grace weightily admits.
“From whom?” I adamantly challenge.
“From forces that would seek to destroy her,” Grace retorts.
“Are you honestly suggesting that would be Fate?” I volley.
“If she knew about her, it would have been an immediate death sentence,” Grace assures.
“Just because she might be able to see the future,” Sasha joins in again.
“It was far more than that,” Grace corrects. “Not only could she perceive the future, but she could alter it.”
“How?” I huff.
“There is quite a long story to explain that,” Grace begins.
“Oh, please deliver me!” Penance sighs, crossing her arms and lowering her head.
“Go on Grace,” I encourage disregarding Penance’s persistent impatience and annoyance.
“It began with the Controller’s attempt to hide in her plain site,”
Grace continues. “He relocated her to a well-populated segment of the Northern Sector. She was set up as a scribe in one of the many satellite libraries controlled by the Record Keeper, so he could monitor her and report back to the Controller. He firmly believed that no one would think an entity of that prowess could be found in such a humble state. A decision he would later and forever regret.”
“But she was an artist, and an obsessive one, unable to keep her creative urges and impulses at bay. She found a way, through less than reputable sources, to resurrect her aesthetic for Citizens. Relocating to a lower sector, she opened a small storefront and began providing her picturesque body art to a multitude of nefarious characters. You see, as unbelievable as this may seem, the process is far more agonizing here than for mortals. The technique requires tools that must transcend our Crux protections so that the etchings will occupy with any degree of permanence. Individuals who entertained the idea were more gruff and surly than most, with a remarkably high tolerance for pain, even under Crux consideration. So you can imagine the nefarious characters that crossed her path.”
“It took one encounter with a mindless thug to drastically and violently transmute her world for a second time. But this time, she had the power to fight back! Escaping her vile assailant, she connected with him and forged his likeness onto the same flesh he so viciously but unsuccessfully tried to violate. She tore his cheeks with her nails and took one of his eyes before fleeing to an Artery to return to the sanctuary of her savior. Upon arriving at the Controller’s domain, her rage consumed her, and she fixated all of
her energies on his marking. The pure cocktail of concentration and guile mutated the image into a portrait of his death, a death imagined in a state of justifiable malice.”
“Within seconds, the brute met his demise exactly as Ink had engineered it. For the first time in the history of the Crux, the Firmamentia itself, a being efficiently, auspiciously deviated from Fate’s course, altering both Time and Reality’s matrix. A naïve, humble, and damaged lass inexplicably reached the status of deity. The act left her deliverer with an extraordinarily difficult dilemma as to whether or not to allow this aspiring sovereign to continue in
her existence or be cast into the darkest chasm of Oblivion’s abyss.”
“It was then Ink revealed her final aptitude. For reasons still unknown and through a series of curious events, the Controller discovered her talent to teleport objects. He brought me in as a witness so a record might be kept, one that could not be traced. He gave her a small cup to touch; she gently caressed its form and then returned it to him. He placed it on a shelf across the room and then requested that she move it, without further physical contact, to the table she was abiding at. An image of the cup suddenly appeared on her hand and focusing intensely on the recently inspired tattoo she manipulated its organically sketched environment until it transformed into a scene of the item sitting on the tabletop before her. Before a blink could complete its unveil, the cup miraculously appeared on the table.”
“Silence suffocated us as we stood there for what seemed like its own eternity, frozen in sheer astonishment. We had beheld this young lady, barely ascended from childhood, become a true Seer, Saboteur of Fate, and Teleporter all in the same illustrious moment. It was then the Controller decided to grant her amnesty, conceal all of her abilities, and ensure that there was no traceable record of her. I was the only one privy to her classification and potential, but I knew the significance of her presence here, the ramifications of his reprise. He was going to extremes to protect her and much more than compassion played a part. To understand why, you have to understand his relationship with her.”
“With Ink?” I pipe up.
“No, with Fate,” Grace stoutly corrects.
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