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, cast a spell to kill the gang leader called Cin, accepted payment from the gang’s second in command, then traveled to a nicer part of town, where she offers her mother some of the money to repay part of her school debts.
“I have much to do today, if you will excuse me?” Though it sounded like a question, Liar’s mother didn’t wait for a response, whisking out of the room.
Liar poked the bag of money, hearing a muted clink. “Not even a single word of thanks,” she growled. “What else did I expect?”
She strode out of the room and down the hall, moving so quickly that her split skirt flapped around her ankles in an angry snap of fabric with each step, and the butler barely managed to reach the door ahead of her.
“Have a good day, Miss Moon,” he murmured, the words rough from his breathless rush to the door.
“Thank you,” Liar inclined her head politely, reminding herself that there was no point in being rude to the staff.
* * *
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.