Her face simply wouldn't stop bleeding. It had been over an hour since the ripping wound marred her childish face, and her own blood was a terrifying mask which caked her chin, her chest, and her clothing. Each breath was a ragged and screaming reminder of her wound, as the separated tissue could not coagulate and reconnect. The fact that they had not stopped running since Amnic turned on the beast had left her in shrieking pain with every heavy pant. The edges of the wound had swollen and grown raw, leaving her face disfigured and ghoulish.
They came to a stop at the edge of the crawl. Finally within the protecting embrace of the Eternal Forrest, Nula was comfortable with stopping their headlong run to freedom. They had barely spoken to each other during their panic filled flight; it was not as if there was any encouragement needed for them to flee. Surprisingly once they slipped away from the Bull-Ork they had very little interaction with Ork kind, and it was growing more and more apparent that the Orks were not giving chase. One greenskin had seen them running; he couldn't have missed them as they cornered sharply and run into his path. Her blade pumped to life, and in a split second a massive gash had bisected its cranium, dropping the beast like a ton of bricks. To Nula the experience was terrible, as the ragged wound in her face throbbed unbearably during normal time perception and was excruciating when the world slowed down.
Illo sat down in the cold mossy undergrowth as Nula leaned over and groaned through gritted teeth. Illo could see the rear sets of teeth in the moonlight, so bad was the injury. The little girl's mind raced as she stared at the stranger in her midst. If Nula was a friend of Uncle Amnic, then surely she was safe.
Amnic.
For seemingly the hundredth time His name triggered a wave of fear and sorrow within the child. Neither of them knew his fate, but there was no doubt in Illo's mind that her captor was a deadly foe. The little girl had the memories of her Father's death blocked and even without the terrible images, she had very little confidence that any person could go toe to toe with the Green Skin terror. She tried to be brave, but she was growing more and more certain that her Uncle was dead.
"Nula, what do we do?" came her mousy voice in the cold midnight air. It was barely audible over the heavy breathing and panting which erupted from her companion's mouth. Nula turned to face the little girl, and exposed her check to the silver moonlight as she looked up. The injury was abhorrent in nature, and it was only the supernatural blessing of fortitude which inspired the little girl's confidence.
Nula was long in response as she stared from Illo's face to the Crawl and back again. "I don't know," came her reply in a near whisper. The injury had changed her voice as she could no longer make a seal with her lips. The impediment was obvious and served as a psychic reminder of her injury, one that the pain surprisingly did not drown out.
Truth be told Nula had no idea what to do next. Every fiber of her screamed to head back to the Ork base and rescue her love, after all she had come back for him, not this little girl. But what was the right action to take? She was once more caught not knowing if Amnic was alive or dead, and she had no way of guessing what was the next right move. She couldn't leave this girl alone in the woods, and Amnic had given her a command…
Another breath out triggered an extra painful sting and Nula cried out in agony once more. She tenderly brought her finger to her face for the first time to explore the extent of the injury. Gingerly touching her chin she was horrified to feel the crusted and Chitin-like shell of blood which had built up upon her gentle skin. Moving upwards her fingers breached the top of the separation and she felt a chill of shock as she brushed up against her rear molars. The edges of the separation where raw and swollen, and even the lightest touch had been excruciating. She had figured the wound was fairly brutal, yet the actual conformation of the injury took her breath away and welled tears up into her eyes.
"Ap'cho kinfolk" she whispered as her hated foe came to mind. I hate you all. Nula dropped down to one knee and stared at the forest floor. The silver light cast a grey pall across the rich and vibrant earth. Already drops of her blood were littering the damp grass, and they looked black in the nighttime air. Like an Ork. The welling tears erupted as Nula began to quietly sob into the earth. She had been here once not that long ago after her first kill and here she was again. Crying in the moonlight her tears mixed with the blood and dripped to the floor. This wasn't fair, not one bit. The horror and sorrow continued to flow freely like the blood from her wound as she gave into the pressure for some time.
A gentle hand placed itself on her shoulder. Looking up Nula made eye contact with the little girl. Nula's eyes were red and raw in the moonlight, and had a glazing and chilling effect as she stared up at Illo. Nula felt a pang of anger within her gut as she looked at the child. She wasn't supposed to be here. Amnic was. Yet the memory of the mother and her child was etched into Nula's mind, and she was not so heartless as to blame the little girl.
"Your face needs help." The little girl spoke with childlike certainty. It was so matter of fact, and obviously true that Nula felt almost relieved to hear it. It was as if the little girl gave her permission to set down the weight of the world, and focus on her own much needed worries.
Illo reached out her golden hand towards Nula's face. She had forgotten that no everyone was aware of her miraculous sign, and Nula flinched back in surprise at the sight. The moonlight reflected off her mark brilliantly and the unnatural images was an unnerving surprise.
"It's okay," Illo said as she took in Nula's reaction. "I'm not a monster. Daddy said there were no such things as monsters. I don't believe him." She looked past the trees and to the glow of countless Orkish fires as they cast illumination above the massive citadel walls. "The old man says that I'm blessed by the Emperor. He says I'm a miracle, but I don't know what that means."
Nula stared at the glowing mark on her hand with wide eyes. A miracle of the emperor…huh. Had she not already experienced the unreal with her own blade, she would have found it laughable. But time wasn't supposed to slow down, and little girls shouldn't have golden tattoos that reflected light with a metallic sheen.
Nula's eyes grew wide at the sudden and forceful realization which dashed into her mind. She let out a gasp which in turn erupted in pain. The symbol on Illo's hand…
It was the same as the one on the hilt of her blade.
Such was the level of awe and surprise that Nula temporarily forgot about the pain and the horror of the moment. How could this be? Her mind raced for an explanation. She was by no means a denier of the supernatural, and she was not hostile to the divine, but Nula was a being of thought and reason and had not become so by choice. Her natural state was to ask questions. She always stopped and sought an explanation. So when shew as faced with something so seemingly impossible, She had very little she could reasonably turn to even as her own mind raced for desperate understanding. As it became more and more apparent that there was nothing within her realm of understanding which could allow her to makes sense of what she saw before her, she grew more and more uneasy. Perhaps it was the emperor? That alone had dazzling implications.
Seeing the surprised look on her face, Illo grew quizzical in her expression. "What is it?" She turned her hand over and looked at the golden mark. Nothing was out of place, aside from the divine and angelic marking which tattooed her palm of course. Illo looked up to see her uncle's friend holding a knife by the blade.
"Look child," came Nula's command as he held the pommel aloft in the moonlight. Illo's eyes grew wide as she made the connection too. Several seconds passed before a slight smile grew upon her face.
"See, The old man is right. The Emperor sent you." Illo spoke with confidence, and it just left Nula more and more confused. Wasn't a divine revelation supposed to be more…epic in its timing? They were in the old books, yet here she sat in the darkness, a child by all rights, and a little girl was claiming the incredible. How could it be true? She didn't know, but the matching runes seemed to suggest that there was some truth to her claims.
Illo placed her hand upon Nula's wound with a serene smile. The pain was sharp, and Nula flinched at the touch. At the same second a confused look spread across Illo's face. She looked down at her hand in puzzlement. Little did Nula know, but Illo was surprised that the healing light did not activate. She had half expected to heal Nula's face, yet nothing happened. She muttered a little prayer under her breath and lifted the golden mark to Nula's face. Frustration was apparent in the child's eyes as she tried to will a miracle into action. There was no reaction.
Nula was simply confused. "What?" she asked as she stared up at Illo.
"I healed Amnic. He was all broken. I thought it would heal you too." Illo looked at the golden mark again. Surprisingly a pang of fear leapt to Nula's mind. She was still closer to a child than an adult, and when Illo was surprised that there had been no miracle, Nula wondered if she had offended to Emperor? She shoved the fear down and tried to maintain rationality. If the Emperor had used his powers to arrange their meeting, then this couldn't be a sign of disfavor, why else would he bring them together?
Nula reached into her pack a brought out a small pouch made of velvet like cloth. She rolled out a small blanket and placed the materials out and into the moonlight. A glint of silver gave evidence of the needle and sinew which law before them. She absolutely dreaded what would be coming next, yet she knew that if they didn't heal it now… There was no end to hardship which would persist carried by infection and blood loss. Nula trembled as she picked of the needle and held it in the moonlight. This was going to be awful.
First however, they needed to clean the ragged edges of the split. The scabs and crusted blood would have to go.
The process was hellish. It took over half and hour as the two young girls worked at sewing the jagged halves of her face back together. Nula had quickly realized she couldn't do it one her own. She was relieved when Illo assured her that she was an accomplished seamstress. In reality the actual sewing was a relief compared to the cleaning of the halves. Scabbed and dirty, Nula had to bite down hard on a leather wrapped stick as Illo scrubbed and cleaned each swollen and inflamed inch. Once the edges had been cleaned and prepared, the needle shoving through the exposed flesh was no picnic, but was much less excruciating to experience. Still as each time it was pressed through her flesh, she screamed as the biting sting radiated through her face. She could even feel it in her eyes. He muscles grew sore as she clamped down hard upon the leather tong.
When the final stitch was pulled and sealed, Nula gave a cry of relief. The pain would end now. She was sorely mistaken when Illo pulled out the alcoholics cleansing fluid within Nula's pack. Ap'cho. She had forgotten about that. Illo looked to her face with a pained expression. It surprised Nula to see a tear trail upon the little girl's cheek as she handed the powerful substance over.
The wound needed one final cleaning, and this was the part that Nula feared the most. She could not drizzle the liquid on the outside of the wound, nor could she swish it around her inner cheek. Instead she would have to force it through the stitching, which would in turn clean both the separation and the stitching holes.
He hand trembled as she took the small vial into her grasp. Tears flowed freely as she silently cried in fear of what was to come. Yet she had to do it, or the potential infection could kill her. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath. She had to be strong like her father. She had to be strong in case her mother was watching down. She would not let her mother's sacrifice go in vain by casting her own life aside to the ravages of an infection. Dad, I miss you. Came her thought as she brought him to her mind. Immediately his words rang to her ears. "Stand up strong/ against your foe/ Face the stone/ and bring it Low."
She tossed her head back and poured the dreadful liquid into her mouth. It was sharp against her tongue. She closed her eyes, and sealed her mouth shut with her left hand. Illo took her right hand, and without missing a beat Nula forced the burning fluid through the tightly stitched wound. Her screamed ripped through the Eternal Forrest and shattered the stillness of the night.
Nula did not sleep that night.
