Fine line black tattoo of the word lumos beside a four-pointed star on the inner wrist.

Lumos script and star on a wrist

Fine line · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

A thin black script reads lumos, with a small four-pointed star with radiating points to its right, placed on the inner wrist of a pale-skinned arm. The linework is delicate and even, with no shading and only black ink. The arm fills the frame against a dark sleeve, with the tattoo sitting near the centre.

Fine line Lettering Forearm Star Sparkle Word

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

The flint had been wet for three nights, so Edwin Marsh climbed the harbour steps with a box of lucifers he did not trust and a boy who trusted him too much. Tomas was eleven and had been sent up to carry the oil can. At the top, the lamp on the north pier stood cold behind its salt-greyed glass, and the fishing boats were still out past the breakwater.

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"You say the word," Edwin said, kneeling to wipe the lens. "Not loud. Just ask the wick nicely." Tomas had heard the story from the net-menders: Edwin's own father had kept the light alive through a hard winter by speaking Latin at it, and nobody in Caldmouth had ever settled whether it was the Latin or the asking that worked. Tomas leaned close and whispered, "Lumos," and the wick took nothing.

Edwin gave a dry laugh. "Try it with your hands cupped." So Tomas cupped his palms around the wick and said it again, and this time he thought about the Hallam, the boat with his uncle aboard. The match went out in his fingers, but a point of light came up from the wick anyway, small and white, then steadied into a flame.

Out past the breakwater a single red lantern swung, turned toward them, and began to climb the path the light had drawn across the water. Edwin said nothing. He only pressed the boy's shoulder and watched the harbour mouth until the Hallam came in, low in the water and whole. Tomas kept that lamp for forty years and never once struck a match for it.