season 1. chapter 20

Chapter 20: Mark of Power

The hotel was a rare moment of peace. After days of relentless attacks and constant danger, everyone was finally able to relax, if only for a brief period. The group lounged around in the small living area of the hotel suite, talking, laughing, and trying to forget about the chaos they had been through.

Jason and Sarah were cuddled up on the couch, their bodies sinking into the worn-out cushions, sharing quiet smiles as the others continued to talk. Damion, however, sat by the window, staring out into the distance. His arms were crossed, his expression unreadable. He hadn't said much all night, just the occasional nod or monosyllabic answer whenever someone addressed him. The weight of the past few days seemed to have settled on his shoulders, pressing him down more than the others.

Jason noticed first. He was always the observant one, quick to pick up on the subtle changes in his friends' moods. He nudged Sarah gently, motioning toward Damion.

"He's been off all day," Jason murmured to her. "Something's wrong."

Sarah glanced over, her brow furrowing in concern. "You're right. He's been distant since we got here. Let's talk to him."

The two of them stood up, leaving the comfort of the couch behind as they walked over to where Damion sat. He didn't look up at them, his gaze still fixed on something far off in the distance.

"Hey, man," Jason said softly, taking a seat next to him. "You okay?"

Damion blinked, finally tearing his eyes away from the window. He forced a smile, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… a lot on my mind."

Sarah sat down on Damion's other side, her expression gentle but probing. "We've all been through a lot, but you've been quieter than usual. Is something bothering you?"

Damion sighed, leaning back in his chair. For a moment, he seemed to weigh his options, deciding whether or not to tell them the truth. His hand unconsciously drifted to the sleeve of his shirt, where the tattoo marking his new power lay hidden. He hadn't told anyone yet about the encounter in the bathroom, about the skeleton, or the word "necromancy" burned into his memory. He wasn't ready to share that just yet.

"Nah, it's nothing," Damion finally said, his voice quiet. "I'm just tired. Everything's fine, really."

Jason wasn't convinced, but he didn't push. He'd known Damion long enough to understand that when he didn't want to talk, there was no forcing it out of him. Instead, he reached out, placing a comforting hand on his friend's shoulder.

"We're here for you, man. You know that, right?"

Damion nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I know. Thanks."

Sarah, ever perceptive, watched the exchange closely. Something still wasn't right, but she trusted Damion to open up when he was ready. She placed her hand on his other shoulder, offering her silent support.

But then, something strange happened.

The moment their hands touched Damion's shoulders, a sudden surge of energy rushed through all three of them. It wasn't painful, but it was intense—like an electric current pulsing beneath their skin. Jason and Sarah both gasped, jerking their hands back instinctively.

"What the hell?" Jason muttered, rubbing his arm where a faint warmth still lingered. He looked down, and his eyes widened in shock.

A tattoo had appeared on his arm, spiraling up from his wrist to his bicep in a swirling pattern of flames. The intricate design seemed to flicker like real fire, though the skin underneath remained unharmed. He stared at it, stunned, as the realization slowly sank in.

"Sarah," he whispered, his voice shaky. "Look."

Sarah glanced down at her own arm and gasped. A similar tattoo had appeared on her skin, though hers was different. Where Jason's symbolized fire and destruction, hers resembled the gentle flow of water—smooth lines and curves that mimicked the movement of a river.

"What… how did this happen?" Sarah asked, her eyes wide with confusion.

Damion stood up suddenly, his face pale. "I… I didn't mean to. I don't know what just happened."

Jason turned to him, his expression serious. "What did you do?"

"I don't know," Damion repeated, backing up a step. He looked at his own hands, his breath coming in short, uneven gasps. "I swear, I didn't mean to do anything. It just… happened."

Jason's mind raced as he tried to make sense of the situation. The tattoos, the sudden surge of energy—it all pointed to something powerful, something beyond their understanding. And the fact that it had come from Damion…

Jason reached out, grabbing Damion's arm gently but firmly. "Damion, what's going on? Did something happen to you?"

For a moment, Damion considered lying again, but the look on Jason's face stopped him. His friend was worried—really worried. And so was Sarah. They deserved the truth, at least part of it.

"There's… something I haven't told you guys," Damion admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "Last night, when you were all asleep… I saw something. A skeleton. It came out of the mirror and asked me if I wanted to know my power."

Jason and Sarah exchanged a look of disbelief.

"And you said yes?" Sarah asked cautiously.

Damion nodded, his eyes downcast. "Yeah. And now I have this." He rolled up his sleeve, revealing the dark tattoo etched into his skin—the mark of necromancy. "I didn't know this would happen. I didn't know I could… do that."

Jason stared at the tattoo on Damion's arm, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He didn't know whether to be scared, angry, or relieved. This new development, this necromancy… what did it mean for Damion? For all of them?

"I think… I think you triggered something in us when you touched our shoulders," Jason said slowly, glancing at his own fiery tattoo. "Maybe your power is connected to us somehow."

Sarah nodded, her eyes still fixed on the water tattoo that now adorned her arm. "It feels like it's amplifying what we already have—our powers. But why?"

"I don't know," Damion said, shaking his head. "But I'm sorry. I didn't mean for this to happen."

Jason placed a hand on his friend's shoulder again, this time more gently. "It's not your fault. We're in this together, remember?"

Sarah smiled softly, stepping closer to join them. "Yeah. We'll figure this out. But no more secrets, okay?"

Damion exhaled, relieved. "No more secrets."

For the rest of the night, they sat together, quietly processing the strange turn of events. Though none of them fully understood what had just happened, one thing was clear: their powers were evolving. And whatever was coming for them next, they would need to be ready.

As they returned to the others, their minds buzzing with questions, Jason caught a glimpse of his fiery tattoo once more. It pulsed faintly, a reminder of the power that now coursed through him. Whatever lay ahead, he knew they had crossed a threshold. There was no going back now.

And in the distance, though none of them could hear it yet, the next threat was already on its way.