As Chandra turned, Van was already by the stream, lifting the girl’s limp body from the water. The cold clung to her skin like death.
"Are you okay?" Van’s voice was tight with worry as he cradled her close. "You’re freezing, girlie." He glanced up at Chandra, his expression grave. "She’s alive, but…"
Chandra moved forward, hands trembling as she pulled out her oil. When she saw the inscription on the girl’s brow, she froze.
"God, she has a mark! Is that a mark? Van, look at her forehead—have you ever seen anything like it?"
Van squinted at the mark, frowning. "No tattoo I’ve ever seen looks like that..." He let out a low whistle. "Supernatural, huh?"
Chandra hesitated, her heart racing. "We'll figure it out later. She needs help."
Van’s expression hardened as he checked her airway, tilting her head back gently to ensure it was clear. He then reached into his kit, producing a CPR mask and securing it over her mouth, his motions calm but swift. His hands moved to her chest, fingers finding the correct spot just below her sternum.
"Get ready, girlie," he muttered to Chandra, his voice tense. He started chest compressions, firm and rhythmic, the pressure precise. Chandra averted her eyes, her lips moving in silent prayer, seeking peace and divine intervention. The sight of the compressions always unsettled her—it seemed too aggressive, like the force of it would crush the fragile thread of life he was trying to save. A quick rap on her shoulder snapped her back to the here and now. "Let's switch. You warm her up, I’ll keep watch."
Chandra quickly undressed the girl, the chill of her gray skin invoking a slight panic. She hung the soaked clothes and wrapped her in one of her own simple white gowns. Pushing away any discomfort, she lay beside the girl, trying to share body heat beneath a heavy blanket. The girl’s body was cold as ice, but slowly, warmth seeped back into her.
Her eyelids flickered, but she didn’t wake.
Regardless, she seemed better, and there was not much else they could do but pray. Sighing relief, Chandra took advantage of the moment to steal a closer look at the mark, her breath catching in her throat. It was strange, unreadable, but there was something about it, something that stirred both love and fear in her chest.
"Van, come see her."
"Uh, kay," he hopped on over. "She looks like she's resting more easily at least. But that mark! It's...bright in a way. Loud. At least, it seems that way. But at the same time, it's barely there. Crazy. I'm not really sure what to make of this...mark-thing. Is she cursed or something?"
Chandra shook her head slowly, her voice steady but unsure. "I don’t know. But we’re not leaving her behind."
"You think so? Okay, boss. But my field medicine can't fix curses."
"Hush, I don't think it's a curse at all."
Van shrugged, chatting as he worked. "Hasn't played out well for her so far." He crouched down and lifted her with exceeding care, crossing her arms around his neck. "She's scarred up and down. Anyway, if those men are planning another ambush, you're going to have to be the one watching my back."
Chandra’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. She hadn’t fired a shot in her life—not at anything living. 'I’ll do it,' she vowed, though her voice quivered.
"Or we're dead, Chandra. Come on. Just remember your training."
Without waiting, Van pressed forward through the forest, his steps deliberate and quiet. Chandra hurried after him, fumbling as she shoved the supplies back into her kit.
She pulled out her pistol, inspecting it with fearful respect. She released the magazine, checked the chamber, and slid the slide back with a crisp snap, the metallic sound echoing in the heavy silence. The cold steel felt unnervingly alive in her grip, a reminder of the danger looming around them.
"May I never have to use this," she muttered under her breath.
The trek through the forest had become unnaturally quiet. The kind of silence that pressed against your skin, cold and thick, as though the world itself was holding its breath. Van led the way, his grip tightening possessively of the mysterious girl, her body as light as a ragdoll kitten. Chandra trailed closely behind, her pistol within reach and ready to respond to every snap of the twigs underfoot.
"Van," Chandra whispered, her voice barely cutting through the heavy quiet, "don't you feel it? Something’s… off."
Van nodded, his gaze scanning the treeline. "Yeah, I feel it. Something’s watching us. Keep an eye out. I don't want to stop with her."
The shadows shift and a thick fog rolls in, utterly stifling their senses. The world around Chandra fades, the dark forest dissolving into a dreamlike haze, leaving only the girl—pale, fragile, but serene, her chest rising and falling with the rhythm of shallow breaths. As she touches the mark, the world falls away entirely.
Chandra is standing in a field—a field unlike any she has ever known. The grass is impossibly green, each blade shimmering with a vigorous glowing mist, as if they were spun from light itself. The sky above is an endless expanse of blue, and though no sun is visible, everything is bathed in a soft, golden light. She feels a warmth spreading through her, a peace so deep it nearly brings her to her knees.
Ahead, she sees a great tree rising from the center of the field—its trunk vast, its branches wide and full, leaves rustling with a sound like whispered prayers. At its roots, streams of water flow clear and pure, pooling into a crystalline lake. The air is thick with the scent of fresh earth and the sweetness of fruit, as if the land itself is alive with divine purpose.
"Eden?" she murmured.
Suddenly, Chandra’s gaze is drawn to the girl standing by the tree. Her gown is white, glowing softly, and though her face is shadowed, the mark on her brow shines with a radiant light. She is no longer weak, no longer frail; she stands tall and sure, her presence commanding, as if the very land recognizes her.
The girl turns to Chandra, her lips parting without producing sound, yet the meaning of it is heard in her mind. She knows, somehow, this place is not just a vision—it is the future, a new Eden, a remade earth.
Then all fades to blood and devastation, bathing Van, herself, and the forest around her.
"Don't lose your pace. If we separate, I'm dropping the girl and saving you."
"No-!" Chandra cried. "Give my life for hers."
"Wha- you know I can't do that. We're connected at the hip. You're like my little sister." His voice dropped so that Chandra strained to hear it. "I dunno if she'll even wake up."
A distant rumble echoes in the sky, and the golden light dims as storm clouds gather on the horizon. The peaceful scene begins to crumble, cracks forming in the earth beneath her feet, the vision darkening with a sense of urgency. Chandra can hear Van’s voice distantly calling her name, but she cannot look away from the girl.
"I am not the only one who seeks her."
Chandra jumped again.
"Did you hear that? That voice?"
Van hummed. "Everything sounds like voices in a forest like this. Relax."
"No..."
A solemn silence fell over her. The girl was important, but she was also a danger magnet. There was no way to communicate this to Van without tempting him to dump the girl for her sake. He may be her devoted guardian, but his loyalty is shared with no one else.
Van dropped in front of her, rolling the girl off his shoulders and firing into the fog in one flowing movement.
"Out of nowhere!" Van hissed. "Ambush."