This 8 sentence blog hop is hosted by The Weekend Writing Warriors. (Click the link for the list of participants, or rules if you want to join!)
This is a snippet from my yet-to-be-completed NaNoWriMo story, Black Ink Plague, a fantasy about inkbloods, people who were left at the roots of a magic tree as babies, and can use charcoal from those trees to write and cast spells. The main character, an inkblood called Liar, has cast a spell to kill a gang leader called Cin, and Cin has just fallen against a wall.
A spot of red appeared on his shirt, a fine mustard yellow silk sold after its original owner tired of it, tailored to appear like new, but still sitting uneasily on Cin’s bulky frame. Quickly, the crimson mark spread, blood running from the wound on Cin’s chest. He slid downward, leaving a bloody streak on the wall, and fell to his side, exposing the much larger hole on his back.
One of his men rushed to Cin’s side, touching his boss at first gently, then more roughly when he received no response. The others fanned out, searching for someone suspicious. Though it wasn’t likely they would look up, Liar stepped back from the edge, and navigated her way across a different route on the rooftops. It wasn’t possible to avoid all the people who used flat sections of their roofs as gardens or extra space, but she was careful to keep her hood covering her face as she went.
Reaching a sprawling brick edifice, Liar peered down into the alley, and finding it empty, she climbed nimbly down a ladder chiseled into the bricks, half-hidden by a leafy vine. Feet safely on the ground, she slipped the cloak off, folding it into a neat bundle, which she bound with a piece of twine from her purse.
* * *
Black Ink Plague is set in a world similar to ours, with the addition of the Rakau tree, which has magical properties–charcoal or ink from the tree can be used to cast spells. However, only inkbloods, babies who were left overnight at a Rakau tree’s roots on their first full moon, can harvest and use the tree. The price they pay for their magic is that the ink infects them, staining their skin and eventually forming words from the spells they cast on their skin. These words change their lives in unexpected ways.