Sacred Ink Novels & Stories

James froze. Hirah explained, “The Chaos Sacred Art contains the supreme Chaos Gospel. It is a secret art nearest to the Chaos Heavenly Path. Since the Chaos Sacred Art is written in the Chaos Script, the text each person sees is distinct. Even if I impart my knowledge to you, you won’t be able to comprehend anything.” James was confused. Then, he thought of the Karma Script. Karma was mysterious and the greatest of all among the Greater Paths. As such, the Karma Script could not be taught orally.

She can't bear seeing Mira at the situation. "How can we hep them?" Serra sounded like pleading. She look at Viktor, his hair scattered on his head and he looked paler than ever. Niko got hold of his legs as he was kicking, while Rena wiped his sweat. "The heavenly fire gives life but also punishes the deserving" Sisi said. Serra suddenly remembered what Maria always told to her about Caro, who can heal any disease and illnesses. It was Ethereal Inkur's innate gift, the touch of life. "If you could summon the divine flame again in your hands, you can save them. Their life is in your hands Inkur".

Father had set up everything I needed, and even provided me with instructions on how to complete the ritual. I lifted the scrap of paper and read the first line at the top. Father’s handwriting was both elegant and neat. Once the ritual has been completed the ink on this paper will fade to keep it from falling into the wrong hands. Remember our family moto, Ophelia, and let it guide you. Holding his words close to heart I began working on the ritual. The bowl of grey, murky liquid was actually water blessed beneath the full moon mixed with the ashes of a murderer. Humming under my breath, I began to add the shards of bone and black salt to the mix.

“Because the ink that would be sent to the Scholar-Dome is different from the ink that we use here to write ordinary book.” Irina stepped on the upstairs with face full of questions. Seeing her face, Lucas continued. “Sometimes they need an ink that can only match with the spell they created. Or, the school, or for daily use. The point is the only place that granted the permission to create various kind of ink is here.” “Oh.” The room was filled with many large rolled of papers. In one of the upper walls, there was a thin rectangle shape hole that blew fresh air into the room. A string with no end hang loose with sheets of paper upon it.

I closed my eyes, remembering a scene like this a few hundred years ago. "Sir," I said strongly but my heart, like everyone else's in the coven, was hurting. "Everyone has been wondering when Miss Avangelina's parting will be." A parting was basically a funeral. We inscribe tattoos on them using the ink of the magi council. Ink of the magi council is only used for three things. Coven records, official welcoming into the coven, and partings of the deceased. "Tell the coven that there won't be one." My eyes widened in shock. She was his beloved, his mate, his love. How can he not want her to have a parting.

Aiden, who was with it, nodded and retrieved it. Morane took the vial and carefully poured a few drops onto the silver dagger. She then asked that they show her their palms. They were already healed from their cut earlier, and so she went ahead and sliced across each of their palms, letting their blood mix with Kira's in a sacred, binding act. Morane's voice was low, commanding the forces of nature to seal the bond as she started yet again another incantation. "sanguine sacro, vinculum verum, tibrus animis ligetur."

“Then why the hell did you dodge the spray the last time I--?” “Sunlight is of nature and the primordial earth. Holy water is a substance of ritual and superstition, the same as your silver stakes and consecrated bullets. Such anointed weapons repel all creatures seen as ‘damned’, even a fallen saint such as myself. If you had a whole baptism font of this stuff, I would most assuredly shrivel away to nothing being plunged into the depths. This little an amount will just burn something fierce however, which is why I entrust it…” He walks up to the headboard and folds the corked bottle right into my palm. “to you.”

She whispers, running a finger over one of my fae ink tattoos. “We add special additives to the ink so that they glow in octarine light, but only fae and other species who can see in that spectrum of light can see them. Witches usually aren’t one of them, but you sparkle like a snow fae of the high court, thanks to your fae ancestor,” I explain, sucking in a breath as her soft hand glides over the sensitive skin on my inner arm as she follows the delicate lines. “They are beautiful and your skin has copper sparkles, can I see more?” she asks, shyly.

I been trying to let all of it go but seems to keep resurfacing back to my mind. Instead of dwelling on it, I did something about it. I cry for a few days then I pick myself up. I decided to make a change in my life, and that when I join the warriors group. The group was call “Dangerous Shield” the group was created a few years back by my father. What we do is help with the pack with have alliance with help with rouge problems. We are well-known to the point that packs in other countries wants to hire us. I’m happy to be part of this group I learn a lot from everyone.

Then, while my hand was still on the page, something strange happened. The ink beneath my fingertip warmed. For a split second, the letters blurred and rearranged themselves, shifting into other words only I could see: SACRIFICIAL VESSEL. BLOODTHORN. MOONCREST. My pulse spiked. I blinked. The letters snapped back into their original shape. With a jolt, I snatched my hand away and shoved the ledger back under the linens just as a maid trudged up the stairs, arms full of firewood.