A Short Story

Prologue

The young woman awoke to a start. The last thing she remembered was a piercing pain that went through her stomach. She looked down to see blood running down from a massive wound on her abdomen. She clutched her stomach with one arm, trying not to lose too much blood. She looked around, trying to remember where she was. There were rocks everywhere, the air was cold, and the sky was dark and storming.

A mountain. She looked over to see another body laying on its side, a body she recognized. Her brother. She crawled over to him and put her fingers on his neck.

Gone. She put her head on his body and mourned for her brother. Then she heard something.

Crying? She looked over her brother's body and saw that he had been holding something, before he died. He lifted his arms, revealing a small baby in his arms. His daughter. He was protecting his child from...something. Everything was coming back to her slowly. She and brother had fought something, or someone. Whoever it was, they were powerful. It had taken the both of them to take it down. But at the cost of their lives, or at least, his life. She picked up the child with her other arm. She looked down at the scared child, whose crying had softened. She kissed the little girl on the forehead.

"It's okay, dear. We're getting out of here." She crawled over to the ledge, looking down at the bottom.

Nothing but water. A mountain surrounded by water. She winced as she remembered that she was still bleeding from her stomach. She dragged herself behind a rock, shielding herself from the rain. She put the child down near her, took her gloves off and noticed something odd. Her hand seemed dirty, like black ink had covered her entire hand. She tried rubbing it off, but it didn't come off. But that wasn't important. The baby was about to cry again, so she had to hurry. She ripped her sleeve, but then she saw that the 'ink' has all the way up to her elbow. She checked her other arm, and there it was. The 'ink', up to her elbow. She looked at her hands, genuinely disturbed.

What is this? Her thoughts were interrupted by the whining of the child. She hurried and put the pieces of cloth around her wound and pushed down on it. She groaned in pain as she tied the cloth around her stomach. She grabbed the baby, quickly consoled her and returned back to the edge of the mountain. She looked back down the mountain, and the water down below. She looked at the child whose was looking back at her with sparkling blue eyes. She smiled at the baby, nudging her nose with her's.

"I'm not a mother, but if we make out of this, I'll try to be the best mother I can."

With that, she clutched the child close to her chest and jumped off the ledge, praying to whatever godly force was out there to protect the daughter of her dear brother, and for a chance at atonement for the atrocities she made.