The Gifter

Krist put the last finishing touches on the tattoo. It was the symbol of flight.

"You're done." She patted the man inches away from the new ink.
The man rose and took off flying. He crashed his head against the ceiling and fell down knocking over a rolling table full of carefully sorted ink, He landed hard on his tush, moaning.

"Please don't do that again in my parlor. You might bring the ceiling down." Krist put it down her tools and stood up to help the man. She started on her usual speech. "Flight isn't easy," she helped the man up to his feet, "it is unnatural for humans to learn how to fly." Most of Krist's customers had the power of flight. Some of the more common powers included teleportation and telekinesis.

The man refused to look at her while she told him this, his pride hurt.

"I suggest to go to an empty field to learn how to fly. Where pads and a helmet. You'll get used to it."

The man sauntered out.

There are many powers you could obtain by the ink. Some of them illegal, such as the power of hallucinations, for obvious reasons, the power to raise the dead, that was never pretty, shapeshifting and more.

Krist herself was not allowed to have any powers herself except one. The one on her neck. The power to give powers. The Gift.

She had broken that rule, she had given herself other tattoos all up and down her legs. It wasn't odd that she always wore pants. Most people did. It was cold and rainy all the time.

Her secrets would be safely hidden under her pants. And no one was the wiser.