Tattooless Tattooer

Fire arrived early at the tavern. Besides the owner, the only other person there was Water, the local tattoo enchanter. Sitting with his back to the bar, Water offered Fire some of his Queen’s Reserve honeydew liquor. Fire accepted out of politeness and sat beside him, his stomach churning. Although Water was a familiar figure, they hadn’t spoken before, and Fire struggled to find a topic.

“You do tattoos for a living, right?”

“Yup,” Water said confidently, placing a cigarette in his mouth.

“So how come…”

“You’re wondering why I don’t have any tattoos, aren’t you?”

“…Yeah.”

“That’s okay; lots of people ask me about it,” he lit his cigarette. “Besides their enchantments, tattoos are typically used as intimidation tactics, right?” He exhaled smoke. “People go for the mean look.” He took a longer drag, his eyes narrowing. “Guess what frightens me the most.”

“Gee, I don’t kn—”

“A blank canvas,” he cut in, his tone shifting as he fixed a serious, somber stare on Fire.