บท 35: Taboo Tattoo
The next day cemented Kir's reputation in the school as two things. The first was a force to be reckoned with, and the second was a bad boy.
Not wanting to go through the hassle of paying extra for the uniform, he spent the rest of the exam day studying the storage cloth as soon as he got back. He finally came up with a solution to his problem when he tried sticking an arm in and out while feeding the cloth mana.
It was going to be highly experimental, but during dinner, Kir presented his moms with his solution.
Brigit immediately shot him down.
"You can't get a tattoo! You'll look like a criminal!"
"It's not a tattoo. It's a semi-permanent magic circle," Kir said back.
"Dunno, sounds a lot like a tattoo to me," Darlae chuckled. "But since you want it for your wings, I think it'll be fine for school." She turned to Brigit, "It's going to be on his back, not his face. No one has to know it's there."
"Who's side are you on?" Brigit snapped at her wife. "I don't want people thinking our son is a criminal or a delinquent."
"In this case? Kir's. It's his body, let him do what he wants as long as it's not dangerous." Darlae picked up the piece of paper onto which Kir had drawn his design. "I even know a place that does magic tattoos."
"You would..." Brigit grumbled.
"Hey, I didn't hear you complaining about the tattoos on my inner thigh," Darlae said.
Kir blocked that last statement out of his mind.
"So I can do it?" he asked.
"It would seem I'm out-voted," Brigit mumbled.
That was how Kir found himself in front of a shady-looking tattoo parlor in the lower district at midnight. Brigit sat this one out, meaning Darlae was Kir's guide to this aspect of Norneau.
The bottom half of the building was a bar, and Darlae's presence provoked an intense silence followed by celebration as she opened her arms to the crowd inside.
The Shattered Sword was a popular dive for adventurers, which Darlae had been for years before settling down with Brigit. She asked if Mr. Inks was in, and received the bad news that he was dead.
"He died doing what he loved," the orc replied when asked how he died.
"Fishing?" Darlae asked.
"Nah. He tried putting a new circle on himself and it exploded." The man placed a hand on his heart in respect.
"Who does the tattoos now?" Darlae asked.
"His daughter, bless her. She's actually a lot better, but don't say that in front of his picture upstairs. It's bad luck." The orc whispered the last sentence.
Once they figured out that someone was upstairs, Darlae wasted little time grabbing a drink and then climbing up the stairwell to knock at the door.
Kir had a rougher time of it because of his wings, but in the end, he was able to pull through. He found himself in a studio apartment with a single bed.
The daughter of Mr. Inks was not what he expected.
She was a skinny human girl about Kir's age with big glasses and a demeanor that said "scientist" more than "tattoo artist." For one thing, she had no tattoos.
Kir arrived just in time to get introduced.
"Moshui Inks," she offered Kir an unenthusiastic handshake after Darlae introduced him.
Kir replied, "I'm interested in-"
"A tattoo, yes. Two gold for standard designs, three for custom, one if you bring me something that interests me," Moshui interrupted. Her voice was a bit nasal but not unpleasantly so.
"Can you make something like this?" Kir asked, presenting her with the magic circle he'd put together.
She took the page from Kir's hand and looked at it closely.
"Storage spell... modified for... hmm... there's no on/off parameter." Moshui held her chin as she contemplated Kir's circle. "What are you storing?"
"My wings," Kir answered.
"Hmm... you wouldn't be the first one to make a mistake trying to stow away a body part," she walked behind the desk that faced the door and started going through drawers.
"I figured I could just stop supplying mana to it and it would turn off," Kir said. "You know, like storage cloth."
"That's not the problem," Moshui looked up at Kir, then resumed her search. "Your wings are big, which means you need to let air in or you'll just be slowly killing them. That means a bigger circle, which means more mana, which means that if you go to sleep or get knocked out, the circle needs to keep running without conscious effort." She finally found what she was looking for. "Here's a circle for wing storage my dad developed. You aren't the first one to come to us with a problem like this."
Kir looked over the circle she put next to his. It was far more complicated. The date on the corner was from fourteen years ago.
"What does all this do?" Kir asked, leaning over the design.
Moshui pointed out each part as she explained. "The main circle does what yours does. This is a spell for circulating air. This one creates a skin-matching illusion to hide where your wings come out, otherwise, it'll look like someone flayed you for bacon."
Kir hadn't thought about that.
"This one hides the circle with illusion magic. This one regulates the mana transference between the circle and its user. Basically, it turns it on and off. Yours is... efficient, but not the best for your situation. Overall not bad for an amateur." She patted him on the shoulder in limp affection. "It would be better for storing dead things like knives or whatnot if you add an on/off circle. Maybe an inventory circle as well, so you don't just pop everything out every time you need something."
That gave Kir an idea. Several, actually.
After negotiating a fair price, he settled on her version of a spell circle to hide his wings, and his version but smaller for his palms. They spent a couple of hours modifying his to be hidden, connected to his mind with an inventory, and have an on-off function.
Then at last it was time for him to lay on the bed.
As he waited facedown for the pain to begin, he felt a lot of uncomfortable handling of his wings.
"Um... what are you doing?" he asked.
"Tying up your wings so they're out of the way. Don't worry, it'll only take a couple of hours if you hold still," Moshui said.
The next thing Kir noticed was her taking out a tray of ingredients. Very fresh ingredients, including an eyeball that Kir swore turned to look at him.
"What are those?" Kir asked.
"Reagents for the ink. I need to figure out one that's compatible or, well, you'll go out like my dad," she looked at him and then back to the ingredients, about to select a jar with a toad.
"Would my feathers work?" Kir asked. "I... heard from a merchant that they're good as reagents."
Moshui raised an eyebrow at Kir. "Gotta have magic blood for that to be true. Beastkin feathers probably won't cut it. Sorry."
"Do you have a way to test?" Kir asked.
Moshui rolled her eyes. "Fine. That'll add a silver bar to your price though. Clear ink is expensive."
A bit of ruffling around in drawers and one painful plucking later, Moshui dropped one of Kir's smaller feathers into a vial of unidentified liquid.
Nothing happened except the feather dissolved, even when she shook it. "See. Doesn't seem to be- Holy shit!"
Moshui covered her eyes and Kir was forced to close his as a brilliant purple light filled the room.
Off in the corner, Darlae smirked before covering her eyes.
When at last the light settled down, Moshui was staring at Kir in awe.
"Kid, how would you like to pay me in feathers instead of gold?" Moshui smiled like a mad scientist.
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