Inked

Calla pulled her long brown hair over to her left side exposing her right shoulder for the tattoo artist. The few months all three of them waited until she finally turned eighteen seemed like an eternity. High school graduation was just around the corner and matching tattoos seemed like the perfect culmination to all they had been through together. Evan even designed them himself: a combination of their initials and symbols for their three elements.

Adam and Evan were already done and were sitting on the bench across from her. She continued her story, "Kind of weird that our grandparents were once madly in love. I don't even know how I feel about it all."

Adam smiles, "I think it's real sweet actually. Maybe this is their second chance."

Evan snorts, "I think it's nasty. I mean grandma did the same stuff you guys do in the same exact place."

Calla shakes her head, "No, it was a different willow tree."

"Still gross." He shakes his head.

She flinches as the needle first pierces her skin. Evan starts laughing, "You're such a punk."

"Hmmm. I wonder why you reacted so well to the needle. Any extra curriculars you'd like to tell us about Evan?"

Evan smirked, "I use sex, not drugs to get off. Nice try though."

"I'm well aware of your reputation. Girls talk you know."

He perked up, "Oh really and what do they say?"

She sighed, "Nothing worth repeating."

Evan stood up, "Oh I can show you something worth repeating."

Adam waved his hands, "Seriously guys enough already. You still bicker just like when we were six years old. Can we try to enjoy this experience?"


The three of them walked together to the training ground where Layla was already waiting for them in her usual stance with her arms crossed. She knew they would be late because of their appointments and she had even told them a good place to get it done. Adam assumed she's be impressed with their ink especially given her assortment of piercings. Instead she rolled her eyes, "Please don't tell me they're all matching. That would reach a new level of lame even for you guys."

Calla nodded, "Evan designed them. I'd show you, but we have to keep them covered for at least four hours. Then we go home to clean them..."

Layla cut her off, "I don't really care. I hope none of you chose to get your asses tattooed because I need you to sit down and shut up. This will be our last training session. In a couple of months you'll be off to college and I have some things I need to deal with as well. I trust you'll stay practicing the things I have taught you on your own. Remember your abilities are like muscles, the only way to make them stronger is to continue to work them."

Calla pleaded, "We need you Layla. The prophecy is only three years away. We still don't know what's going to happen."

Layla shrugged, "That's not my concern anymore and it shouldn't be yours either. This is the boys battle to fight, not mine or yours. I only included you because of your grandfather."

Adam argued, "She's just as much a part of this as we are."

"No she isn't. Calla is nothing more than a comedic sidekick or love interest at best. If some Indy film maker did a documentary on all this Calla probably wouldn't even get more than five minutes screen time. The prophecy is about the two of you. Not her, not me, not the sanitation worker, just the two of you. Anyways I'm off, so good luck."

Layla raced right out of there straight to the public bus stop. On the ride there she spaced out thinking about how all of their lives would be better off without her. When she got there she burst right through the front door, into the back room, and walked right up to him.

Tony was just finishing up a tattoo on an older gentleman when he looked up, "Hey Layla, your friends were just in here earlier today getting their first ink."

"I know. Give me what they got."