Chapter 12 — "Afterward"

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Teen Prodigy Dead at 16

The headline had been circulating for weeks, a bitter reminder of the fragile nature of fame. "Freak accident and misuse of elemental sigils cause the death of teen sensation Firefly in the Ink Fighting League in Canis Major." The words haunted Conrad Junior every time he read them.

“He would want us to keep fighting,” Hayden Green, the hotel owner of the famous Haven Hideaway Hotel, had been quoted saying. “We fight on for him.”

Junior threw the newspaper down onto the table with a sharp motion, his fingers curling into fists. “I’m not dead yet,” he muttered under his breath, his gaze hardening as he shouldered his backpack and pulled up his hood to hide his face. He pushed energy into his new sigils before shakily opening the door of the small diner. The chill of the early morning air hit him like a slap, but it did little to dull the fire inside.

Weeks had passed since the brutal fight that left him broken, both physically and emotionally. His legs had never healed. Marty had held his hand—like a friend— as he amputated them. The building they were in had almost burned down from the release of fire energy.

Only a small piece of his original sigil remained above his right knee. It couldn’t hold any karma, but it sat as a reminder of his first sigils. After his legs were gone, he’d sat in bed for a long time. For a while, it still felt like they were there.

At first, he was angry. If I can’t have my sigils, who am I? He thought he might just lie there forever, rotting away. But over time, the last words his parents had told him echoed in his mind. He couldn’t just lie there. He had to live.

As he sat in bed day after day, he kept thinking: What would my father have done? What would Firefly do?

No—Firefly was gone. Just Junior now.

But he was still an Ink Fighter.

Marty gave him his new sigils. With his legs still numb, he barely felt the large sigils that wrapped all the way around his thighs.

Marty had joked that he was becoming more like his father. Junior had chosen body sigils, but more specific than the one his father had first given him. When he first tested the sigils, he couldn’t even hold himself up. He couldn’t manifest the sigil for more than a few seconds. But the more he practiced, the more his new ink legs felt just like the real thing. It was just enough to keep him mobile. He would need a lot more time if he was going to use his new sigils to fight.

When he gained his mobility back, his first thought was to return to the hotel.

“I should go back and fight for my parents,” he thought restlessly. But he knew he couldn’t do that. It was a thought old Junior would’ve had.

He wouldn’t make the same mistakes.

As he left the diner, he was glad he’d gotten used to walking with his new legs hidden beneath his pants. One day, he would wear them proudly, but right now, he was undercover.

The sky above him was clouded and gray, the distant skyline of Canis Major barely visible on the horizon. He glanced back one last time before turning his gaze forward.

“I’ll be back one day,” he thought, his resolve hardening. “But first, I need to be stronger. I need to learn more.”

He didn’t know exactly where to start or how he would get there, but something inside him told him he had to understand his sigils—the power they held, the strange connection he’d felt with his father when they made his new ones. There had to be more to it, some deeper layer that would allow him to tap into his potential without risking everything. The sensation of that power, the surge of energy when the sigils had flared to life—it was a feeling that now consumed him. He had to unlock it, master it.

“I will understand,” he muttered, taking his first step forward toward the unknown. It was a path he hadn’t yet mapped, but it was the only one that made sense. Every step, every challenge, would bring him closer to the answers he sought. One thing was certain: he was going to fight—not just for his father’s legacy, but for himself.

The road ahead was long and uncertain, but Conrad Junior was ready.