A Second Wind: Book One, A Legacy Found

Chapter 12: Ripping Open the Wound

Aunt Maria was a storm. The last mission had been a disaster. Sure, the objective had been met, and everyone was alive, but that didn't mean it had been close to becoming something worse. Angie and Zephyr had come out with the least amount of damage. Maybe some guilt, self-blame and concern over their teammates, but it wasn't something that would affect them for long

Mari and Sparky were a different matter.

The elder hedgehog's thoughts turned to her nephew. Sparky was a mess when the children returned. The young fox was shaking, eyes dim, and looked like he was about to be sick. He wouldn't let go of Angie. Apparently, he had to cut the generator down, leaving him to fall down into the bowels of the volcano. Aunt Maria was well aware of the child's fear of heights, a number of occasions she had to calm down Sparky from nightmares about falling. No wonder he had been shaken so badly, and it was no question that this mission would stick with the fox for years to come.

And Mari.

Oh, Aunt Maria nearly had a heart attack when she saw her eldest niece. The young cross-breed had fought through her wounds and instinct, throughout the whole return trip. Hideous burns marked her upper body; shoulders, face, head, and her entire left arm. The elder hedgehog could feel the unstable sparks of chaos that clung to what was left of her niece's fur. The incredible strength Mari showed by even standing up, gave out the moment the cross-breed entered her room. Aunt Maria barely had enough time to catch her niece before Mari fell to the floor, finally giving in and slipping into unconsciousness.

The next few hours were agonizing. Mari began quilling, losing all the damaged fur and quills at what would be an alarming rate if she were a normal hedgehog. Thus, revealing the damaged skin underneath. Aunt Maria spent over an hour cleaning and wrapping the burns. It was painful to look at, and odd seeing her niece's bare skin. Most would expect just pale, maybe reddish skin, but Mari's was different. It was inked with black. At least most of her body was. If her dark fur wasn't covering her, then her true blood showed. Black Doom may have been long dead, but his blood still managed to leave a mark on his granddaughter. Mari's skin was alien; covered in strips, swirls and markings of midnight. Much like the mindless soldiers of the Black Arm armies that she shared blood with.

Aunt Maria liked to believe her grandfather had been a kind loving man. Not the kind to make a deal with a devil. Once her brother told her of some of the more...questionable...choices he made while working on PROJECT SHADOW, that perfect picture of a kind man gained a crack in its frame. Still, those decisions gave her Shadow and Eclipse, her little brothers, and eventually her niece and nephew, so she didn't hate him. However, those decisions still happened, and they showed through Mari's skin. Even if with in a matter of hours the markings were covered by a sea of silky dark fur once more, hiding them like they were never there.

The golden hedgehog sighed, hearing another whimper coming from the now half mummified, child on the bed next to her. She quickly resoaked the cloth that was on Mari's head. Aunt Maria wasn't even surprised that a migraine followed her niece's collapse. Anything from heavy stress to wounds could trigger them these days. Which did little to curb her worry for the child. Mari's father had migraines leading up to his death, but back then they, she and the others, didn't know their true meaning. She ran a hand over Mari's head, feeling fresh healthy quills already growing back. At least thanks to that monster's blood, her niece would bounce back within a day. That was, if this migraine was a short one.

The room's entry door opened with a squeaked. Aunt Maria looked over the railing of Mari's loft, finding that Angie had walked in. The red child, now looking much more alive, having taken a shower and eaten a meal, lightly shut the door. Black wings almost soundlessly lifting the half-breed up to the loft.