Ink Portals

Birds of a feather

12

Jack and Pierre crossed the bridge to join Abby, who was standing over Arthur, eager to see the finished artwork. Kazunori wiped away the last smudge of ink-residue from Arthur's back, leaving only crisp, black lines; expertly shaded to add just the right amount of realism. The artwork depicted an unkindness of ravens, perched in the dead branches of a withering tree. There were dark storm clouds looming in the backdrop. The entire image had a very dark and foreboding mood about it.

"That's amazing," Abby said, pulling out her phone to snap a picture. She crouched down next to Arthur and showed him the photo.

"The detail is incredible," Arthur said, pulling his fingers across the screen to zoom in.

"The old timer hasn't lost his touch," Jack said, watching Kazunori gather up his tools.

"Yes," Pierre said, leaning in for a peek. "Very Gothic, I like it. How do you feel, Arthur?"

"Just a little light-headed," Arthur said yawning.

Then, without warning, Abby shrieked as a storm of birds burst out from Arthur's skin like a hurricane, everyone around him ducked and shielded their faces as wings beat down on their heads. Ravens darted through the air, squawking loudly, one of the birds almost got tangled up in Abby's hair; she swatted it away and fled back into the temple.

Arthur stumbled back, trying to get away from the chaos and bumped into the guardrail of the balcony, he toppled over the rail and spun around once on the way down, losing his jacket as he fell, and landed on his back with a thud in the snow. There was a jab of pain as the cold pierced his bare skin, still raw from the tattoo.

The birds had gone as quickly as they had arrived.

A couple of black feathers drifted down to Arthur, lazily twirling through the air; one of which landed on his chest and started dissolving right before his eyes. He reached out, attempting to snatch it up, but grabbed onto nothing. It was gone before he could touch it. He got up, bewildered, backing away into the garden and almost tripped over his own feet.

"Steady now, kiddo," Jack coached him from up on the deck. "Keep it together. Don't let them intimidate you. You got this."

Voices echoed in Arthur's head, like he was inside of a cavern. They were jabbering in a language he didn't understand. He felt like he was in a room full of foreigners as they gossiped about him while he stood there, oblivious to what they were saying.

Then the flashback hit. His eyes changed from blue to black, black to blue, then back again like a glitch. He beat the sides of his head with his palms, trying to empty his mind of the taunting chatter. Then he opened his pitch black eyes and was sucked out of his own head and into a far-off place.

Arthur found himself gliding over a massive body of water, flanked from both sides by towering mountains as he soared above a gaping fjord, overcast by blankets of grey clouds. He felt the strange sensation of the wind rustling through the feathers on his neck and chest. The crisp air chilled his lungs as he descended, down towards a fleet of long-ships while the wind played through his feathers.

Below him he could hear grunts and shouting from men rowing. Oars struck the water with rhythmic crashes as the boats closed in on a stretch of coastline up ahead.

Arthur swooped in and landed on the shoulder of a man standing on the deck of a long ship. The warrior wore a thick animal hide over his shoulders and a pointed iron helmet; a long red beard overflowed down his armored chest-plate, like an upside down flame.

The captain barely took notice of the bird's arrival; he was too busy scanning the coastline up ahead. Arthur followed the bearded man's gaze and saw arrows hurtling towards them, filling up the sky like a swarm of angry insects. The men on deck shouted and scurried around the boat for cover. Arrows pelted the ships and surrounding water like a curtain of rain from a passing cloud. When the wave of projectiles had passed the sailors stood up and broke off arrows from their shields, defiantly taunting the enemy with roaring battle cries as their ships bobbed and dipped through the crashing waves.