> "In the stillness of slumber, dreams unveil the prophecies woven into the fabric of our souls. They herald the end of ancient cycles and the rise of new dawns, casting light upon the path that lies ahead. In these quiet moments of rest, the universe murmurs its age-old secrets, weaving visions of what has been and what shall be. These nocturnal revelations guide us through the darkness, offering glimpses of light to lead us forward. To dream is to commune with the deepest essences of our being, to grasp the timeless dance of fate and free will. Heed your dreams, for they are the beacons that illuminate your journey, the harbingers of your destiny."
> Zephyra, The Harbinger of Dawn, 3000 B.C.E.
The morning sun pierced through a tiny hole in my curtains, landing directly on my eyelids and pulling me from sleep. I groaned, turned away from the light, and let out a string of colorful expletives. Sunbeams revealed drifting dust particles, their slow dance mocking my tired state. If I wasn’t so exhausted, I might have found it magical, but today, they were just specks laughing at my misery.
I stretched, feeling every creak and groan of my muscles. A dull ache reminded me of yesterday's marathon at the shop. Spending hours hunched over a particularly lengthy session on a large intricate back piece. No one warned me of the physical toll that a tattoo artist suffered through. Who knew transforming blank skin into artistic masterpieces could be such a pain in the... back? When did I start having back pain? I was only 21, and I was the youngest artist at Enchanted Moon Tattoos.
I finally dragged myself out of bed, each step a reminder that tattooing might be a glamorous job, but it came with its share of physical complaints. Maybe I should start adding "professional contortionist" to my resume.
I shuffled into the kitchen, my feet padding softly on the cool wooden floor. The familiar routine of brewing coffee was a welcome, grounding influence. I measured out the rich, dark grounds, the aroma filling the air and starting to wake me up. I poured myself a large cup of coffee, refusing to add any cream or sugar. The first cup of the day should be strictly black, and if anyone disagrees with that, they should be drawn and quartered.
With my steaming mug of coffee in hand, I sat by the window, watching the city come to life. I was lucky enough to be able to rent the apartment above the shop from the owner, Carlos, who had been my mentor during my apprenticeship and seemed to have a soft spot for me. I loved Austin. It was a vibrant place, where culture, innovation, and heritage mingled with the strange and the diverse. The bustling city below was already teeming with life—joggers, dog walkers, and early commuters weaving through the streets.
I dressed in my usual attire—faded denim shorts with fishnets, a graphic tee that read “Ink Outside the Box,” and a leather belt with silver studs. After I laced up my black combat boots, I picked up my studded leather jacket, slipping it on and adjusting the collar.
I grabbed my bag and headed out, the cool morning air brushing against my skin like a gentle reminder of the day's promise. As I stepped onto the bustling streets, I felt a mix of anticipation and unease swirling inside me. The usual morning hustle was there—people rushing to work, kids heading to school—but there was also an almost palpable undercurrent, as if the city itself was holding its breath.
Suddenly, I was struck with a flashback to my dreams. The images were hazy and didn’t seem to make any sense. There was a young woman whose face I couldn’t quite see. A scream. Shadowy figures murmuring a haunting chant. Moonlight. Blood that looked black against the grass.
Just as quickly as it appeared, the memory vanished, leaving behind a sense of dread. My heart raced in my chest from the confusing images.
I shook my head, trying to bring myself back to the present. What a strange dream. I didn’t usually remember my dreams, but this one felt significant. I couldn't shake the unease that pulsed through me. Whether it was fear or anticipation, I wasn't sure, but it felt like something big was coming. There was a strange energy in the air, a tingling awareness that something was about to reveal itself, for better or for worse.
As I stepped onto the street from the door adjacent to the shop, I took a moment to take a deep breath and absorb the energy of Austin slowly waking up. The morning light filtered through the trees, casting shadows on the sidewalk. And since I was already awake, I felt less antagonistic to the light. A street musician strumming a guitar added a delightful soundtrack to the city’s hum. From where I stood, I could see a mural that always inspired me. A medley of fantasy creatures behind a powerful feminine figure with flowing hair made of vines and flowers. There were lush forests teeming with fairies and mythical beings, with a vibrant, blue and gold dragon soaring among the stars. Something about it called to me and fueled my creativity. I smiled at the dragon (which I had nicknamed “Sparkles”) adjusted the strap of my bag and stepped into the shop.
The place was already buzzing with activity when I entered. Even though we didn’t open to walk-ins until noon, regular clients could book appointments as early as 7:00 am. For an extra fee, of course. The familiar hum of the machines greeted me, mingling with the scent of ink and antiseptic. I exchanged nods and smiles with a few of the artists and their clients as I made my way to my station. Despite the turmoil of emotions, when I was here, I always felt that sense of being Home.
"Morning, Yumina," called out Rosa, the shop's receptionist, her bright smile a welcome sight. "You've got a busy schedule today."
"Thanks, Rosa," I replied, glancing at the appointment book. It was packed, but I didn't mind. When I was in the middle of a tattoo, I entered a zen-like state. Nothing else existed but the buzz of the irons and the next ink stroke.
I took a few minutes to set up my station, wiping down the chair with practiced ease and arranging the inks, needles, and other tools in precise order. Each bottle of ink was placed just so, each needle laid out in even parallel lines. As I moved through the familiar motions, something inside me shifted. The simple act of organizing my space seemed to calm the air around me. The stresses and worries I felt upon waking slowly melted away, replaced by a sense of calm and focus. It was as if the process of setting up my station prepared not just my tools, but also my mind and spirit for the work ahead. I could almost feel a subtle energy flowing through my hands, and the art seemed to take on a life of its own. To my clients, it was simply exceptional artistry. To me, it was second nature, a gift that I felt I channeled rather than created.
My first client of the day, Javier, was a regular. He was a towering figure, standing at 6’2” with a muscular build and warm, chocolate-brown eyes that always seemed to hold a playful glint. His broad shoulders and powerful frame made me marvel at how he fit through the shop's door. With a friendly grin, he greeted me with a fist bump. A dedicated firefighter, he had a passion for intricate sleeve tattoos. Today, we were continuing the sleeve on his right arm, featuring a serpentine dragon entwined with flames, rendered in the vibrant and detailed Aztec "Mexica Art" style. This design was a tribute to both his heritage and his profession. When he first described the concept, I was instantly excited. The idea was one of those rare visions that formed perfectly in my mind before I even started sketching.
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"Ready to finish this bad boy?" Javier asked, rolling up his sleeve to reveal the half-completed dragon.
"Absolutely," I said, my excitement genuine. "Let's get to work.".
Javier settled into the chair, his massive frame somehow fitting comfortably. I glanced at the intricate design already in place, feeling a surge of pride. This piece was something special, and I had a nagging feeling it was more important than I realized.
As I started my machine, Rosa walked by, giving us a bright smile. "Looking good, you two. Need anything?"
"We're good, thanks," I replied, focusing on the task at hand.
Javier winced slightly as the needle touched his skin. "You're getting too good at this, Yumina. I barely felt that."
I laughed. "Years of practice, my friend. Besides, I think this dragon likes you."
"Likes me, huh? Maybe it'll give me some good luck," he said with a grin.
As I worked on Javier's tattoo, I found myself lost in the process. Each stroke of the needle felt like second nature, the design coming to life under my hands. The dragon's eyes seemed to sparkle as I added the finishing touches, almost as if the creature was winking at me. I paused for a moment, blinking, wondering if my eyes were playing tricks on me.
This always happens, I thought. Every time I work on a piece, it’s like the art has its own soul.
"So, what's next for you, Javier? More firefighting adventures?" I asked, trying to shake off the weird sensation.
"Always. We had a crazy rescue last week—guy got stuck on his roof trying to save his cat. You should have seen it," Javier said, chuckling.
I couldn't help but laugh too. "People and their pets. Gotta love the dedication."
As I continued, a gentle, tingling sensation began to spread up my spine, like a flow of energy. The room seemed to hum with it, and I felt more connected to my work than ever before. It was strange but exhilarating.
Rosa popped back in with a coffee in her hands. "Here you go, Yumina. Figured you could use a pick-me-up."
"Thanks, Rosa. You're a lifesaver," I said, taking the cup and stretching out my back as I took a grateful sip.
While working, my mind wandered back to the dream I had that morning. Flashes of a ritual, a young woman, and an impending sense of doom. Was it connected to this strange energy I was feeling?
"Do you ever get weird dreams?" I blurted out.
Javier looked taken aback for a moment before his brows furrowed in thought. "Sometimes. Why?"
"I had one this morning. It felt... different. Like it was trying to tell me something," I admitted.
Javier shrugged. "Dreams can be weird like that. Maybe it’s just your mind working through stuff."
"Yeah, maybe," I said, though I wasn’t convinced.
When I finally finished, Javier looked at his arm with a broad smile. "This is incredible, Yumina. You've outdone yourself."
"Thanks, Javier. It's always a pleasure working with you," I said, feeling a rush of satisfaction.
As Javier admired the completed piece, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something significant had just happened. The dragon looked almost alive, its eyes twinkling with an inner light. Was it just my imagination? Maybe. But there was no denying the connection I felt with my work, a connection that went beyond mere artistry.
As Javier left, I took a moment to clean up my station, reflecting on the morning. Today just kept getting weirder and weirder.
“Well,” I thought to myself, “It is Austin. I guess I’m doing my part in Keeping Things Weird.”
The rest of the day passed by uneventfully.
By the time my last client of the day walked in, I was feeling the fatigue settle in. The woman, a quiet and reserved type, wanted a small, intricate design of a lotus flower on her wrist. As I worked, I noticed how the shadows in the room seemed to grow longer, as if the day was stretching itself thin. I pushed the thought aside, focusing instead on the delicate lines of the tattoo.
After finishing up, I cleaned my station for the final time that day. The shop was beginning to quiet down, the chatter of clients and artists dwindling to a low murmur. I exchanged goodbyes with Rosa and the other artists, each of us looking forward to some much-needed rest.
I climbed the stairs to my apartment, my legs feeling heavier with each step. The day's events played back in my mind—the strange dream, the odd energy, the fleeting moments of unease. It had been an unusual day, to say the least. But now, with the promise of sleep just ahead, I felt a sense of relief wash over me.
After a quick shower to wash away the day's ink and sweat, I slipped into my pajamas and crawled into bed. The familiar softness of my sheets and the quiet hum of the city outside my window lulled me into a state of relaxation. I closed my eyes, hoping for a dreamless sleep, but knowing that tonight, that was unlikely.
----------------------------------------
I was floating above a vast, moonlit jungle. The air was thick with the scent of incense and the distant sound of rhythmic drumming. I wondered at the source, and suddenly found myself standing among the jungle, dark except for the slivers of moonlight breaching the canopy above. The drumming was louder and more primal. The shadows seemed alive and danced around me, quick and chaotic, in time to the music.
My body moved through the jungle, never touching the ground. I hovered over a stone path lined with intricate carvings of jaguars, eagles and serpents that shifted in the flickering light.
Above the drumming, a low haunting melody began. Once again, with a thought, my body blurred, and I found myself at the steps of an ancient temple, its silhouette dark against the glowing moon behind it.
For the first time, my feet touched the ground, the stone cool beneath my bare feet. I felt like the melody was calling me towards the center of the temple and so began to climb. The steps were steep and covered in moss. When my bare foot touched the first step, I felt a tingle of something thrum through my body. It felt like touching a low-voltage wire, but it vibrated through my entire body. With each step I took, the energy grew and grew, and it became harder to take the next step. By the time I reached the top, my hair was floating around me in the air, as if I were underwater.
At the top of the temple, a large, circular stone disc was embedded in the floor, its surface etched with the phases of the moon. In the center of the disc stood a woman, her figure shrouded in shadows and moonlight. She was both ethereal and terrifying, her presence commanding and ancient.
Her hair flowed like liquid silver, cascading down her back in waves, and her eyes glowed with an otherworldly light. She wore an elaborate headdress adorned with feathers and jade, and her skin was marked with luminescent tattoos that seemed to tell a story of battles and sacrifices. In her hands, she held a serpent-shaped staff, its eyes gleaming with an inner fire.
"Yumina," she whispered, her voice echoing through the night like a distant memory. “My child. It is time.”
I tried to speak, but my voice caught in my throat. The woman stepped closer, and the scent of jasmine filled the air. She raised her staff, and the moonlight intensified, casting long, twisting shadows that writhed like living creatures.
The stone disc beneath my feet began to glow, and mysterious symbols appeared, spinning and aligning in patterns I couldn't comprehend. The ground trembled, and a chasm opened up beneath me, swallowing the symbols and plunging me into darkness.
I was falling, tumbling through a void filled with stars and ancient symbols. Faces appeared and vanished, warriors and priests, their eyes filled with knowledge and secrets. The drumming grew louder, a heartbeat of the universe, and I felt a surge of energy coursing through me, igniting every nerve in my body.
Suddenly, I was back on the stone path, but now it was ablaze with spectral fire. The woman stood before me, her form shifting between human and divine. She reached out and touched my forehead, her fingers cool and electric.
"Awaken, Yumina," she commanded, her voice a symphony of power and grace. "Embrace your destiny."
A blinding light engulfed me, and I felt a rush of warmth and strength.
----------------------------------------
My eyes flew open, and I was back in my bed, drenched in sweat and trembling. The room was silent, but the echoes of the dream lingered, the woman's voice whispering in my mind.
I sat up, my heart racing, and glanced at the clock. The time read 3:33 AM. Outside, the city was still and quiet, but I could feel the energy thrumming beneath the surface, waiting to be unleashed.
I glanced at my arm, where a faint, glowing symbol had appeared, floating above the intricate moon of my tattoo. The symbol was the same one from the stone disc in my dream. I traced it with my finger, a sense of awe and fear washing over me. As I watched, it slowly faded and merged into the moon. It flowed seamlessly and beautiful, integrating into the tattoo.
"What the fuck just happened?" I whispered to the empty room. The words of the mysterious woman echoed in my mind: "Embrace your destiny."