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"There ht bein the human world was shoved to the back of Malachi’s mind when he entered the ritual roo but the traditional linen wrap used during ceremonies Malachi’s unmarked skin was stark in the shadowed room, which had been decorated with countless spells and enchant into the soft rock Some were scribed in different colors Sos in vivid hues The entire roo, was covered with Irin ic

Evren followed the in the center of the rooan

First, he prepared the ink,Mixing the powdered ash with oil, he carefully poured the ink into an alabaster bowl that had been stained black from hundreds of years of use Then he reached for the needle that Leo held out

Leo wasof this power, handed down to us froic For the balance of our race We ask the Creator’s blessing on this scribe"

Evren echoed Leo’s words with a few of his own, but Malachi heard little There was only the ivory needle in his right hand The ink in his left He sat down on the stool with the sined in his mind the characters he would write He closed his eyes and felt a slow curl of power building up fro the hand that had been shaking

Then Malachi opened his eyes and began to write

The first prick of the needle pierced the fog of ic that had covered his mind It hurt He dipped into the ink and made a few more rapid strikes the way Leo had shown him It still hurt, but slowly he reached past it The first character for with a dull, pewter-like shine Malachi started on the second He felt theplateau

By the fourth letter, hisfroain, Malachi steadily scribed the ancient words, calling on his angelic ancestors, hisline of Irin before them He claimed his power in black ink as the spells circled the inside of his wrist, slowly curling like a snake around his forear up his elbow They twisted and shone as he evity On Rafael for swift healing He harnessed Mikhael’s ic for swift hands in battle and Ariel’s for protection from blades

Malachi focused on the oldest of the Irin spells, those given to the earliest scribes by the Forgiven Other, ic could coh him His skin was alive with it His hand never wavered

Behind hi thehim as he wrote He took deep, steady breaths that Malachi copied when he realized he was holding his own breath, gritting his teeth against the constant pain

And there was pain

Through the endorphin rush and the h, Malachi could feel the sharp ache as his skin closed around the ink, red and angry from the ivory needle

He didn’t stop