Spirit of the Ashes: A Nyssara story

Chapter 2

Nyssa's POV 

 My feet hit the sand. I start to scan the island, looking the herb my father needs. I tell the rest of my unit to expand out to cover the rest of the island. I go into the forest, hoping the herb would grow near water. I tramp through the jungle, hating every pricker that attaches itself onto my armor. One gets stuck in my hair and I sigh, wishing I was back at Nanda Parbat.

After a while, I come across a clearing. I look around and out of the corner of my eye, a crashed plane catches my eye. Curiosity gets the better of me and I go over to it. It is split into three parts, it's charred sides scrape by shoulder. I go into the cabin, it looks to be about 50 years old. To my surprise, I find a couple jugs of water and clothing; someone has been here recently.

I walk around the cabin, trying to see what I can find out about the people that used to be here. A couple strands of blonde hair are caught on what I presume to be an exit. I examine them with interest. They are too long to belong to a man, and do not appear to be dyed. A young girl, perhaps in her teenage years. I smile, wondering where she is now.

One of my warriors soon comes to find me. He informs me that they have found the herb. I nod and prepare to leave, When no one is looking, I grab the strands of hair and quickly put them in my satchel.

We trudge through the rest of the jungle, finally breaking through onto the shore on the other side of the island. The boat is starting to pull closer to the shore when I hear a faint whimper. I look around, trying to locate the noise.

My unit looks at me questioningly. I ignore them and wave them off. They return onto the boat, waiting for me.

I travel towards where the noise came from. After a couple minutes I get to a small overhang of vines. I push them aside to find a girl.

A small gasp escapes my lips. She appears to be passed out, but not dead. Yet. Her arms and legs are bruised and scraped from the forest. My eyes travel up her body, judging how bad her wounds are. None of them look too serious except for a large gash across her stomach. I finally look at her face. She has a warm complexion with freckles scattered on her cheeks. Her blonde hair lays messily around her head. I think back to the strands I found on the plane, could they be hers?

I shake my head and check her temperature. She burning up, I tear a stripe of fabric off my shirt and soak it in a pool nearby. After a couple seconds I wring it out and lay it on her forehead. She lets out a small cry and I make up my mind.

Carefully, I pick her up bridal style and carry her to the boat. She can not weigh more the 90 pounds but she still is hard to hold. My battalion gives me a weird look but thankfully do not say anything. I bring her to my quarters and lay her on my bed.

I start to grind up some medical herbs and create a thick paste. Slowly, I put them in her mouth and prompt her to swallow. She starts to convulse for a few seconds before going still. I sigh in relief and settle down to watch her.