Inked

1

The sun was setting quickly on the robbers' camp. Meggie had just set down her pen. "Thanks, Jasper." The glass man, no longer a slave to Orpheus, gladly assisted those in the camp who wished to write, though that list currently only consisted of a handful of people: Meggie, Mo, and Resa. Meggie was the only one who wrote on a regular basis.

Grabbing the sheaf of parchment she had been using, Meggie jogged to the tent where Mo and the Black Prince were conversing, her bright blond hair bouncing behind her. "May I come in?" she had to ask because there was no way to knock on a tent. A grunt of assent and she ducked between the flaps into the small space. Mo was sitting on a cushion across from the Prince. The bear provided a back rest for the dark-skinned man.

"What've you  got there, Meggie?" Mo greeted her with a smile. She handed him the thick stack covered in jet-black ink. "All finished?" She responded with a happy nod. Her first original story. She was so proud of herself, how she had been able to weave together the characters and emotions in her head into one masterpiece. She had been documenting all they had been through in the Inkworld for some time, quite a long time actually. The festivities had ended an entire year ago, but she hadn't wanted to rush it. She had wanted to savor each detail and convey it as beautifully as she could. And now she had finished. She had never been so ecstatic; soon her work would be bound and protected by a magnificent leather cover, and who better to finish off the job than Mo, Silvertongue, the bookbinder, her father — at least he was no longer the Bluejay — whom she loved more than anything else in the world.

Speaking of things she loved, at that exact moment, as soon as the sheets had left her fingertips, Farid burst through the tent flaps, panting and sweating. He didn't address her though. In fact, he only had eyes for the Black Prince and Silvertongue. Ever since he returned from his year of being a fire-eating nomad, he had barely acknowledged her presence, and though Doria made her heart beat much faster than he did, she still felt hurt when he didn't greet her.

"A girl... in the wood... she's hurt." He spoke through gasping breaths. "Hurry!" He spun and sprinted outside, the two men and the bear close behind. They disappeared into the trees of the darkening forest with only fire-elves to light the way.