The Skin Shatters
"Drusilla, we have to go, now!"
Drusilla Varus turns and furrows her brow in the direction of the voice.
"Not yet, there's a child here"
Her gaze returns to a small hyur child, peeking out from behind some rubble in the corner of the shack. It was barely standing, and likely would fall any moment. The Empire had done their work well.
"Come here, child"
The child's eyes looked around, filled with thought as she gauged whether or not this woman would harm her. And whether or not she could get away if she ran.
A bomb exploded nearby, rocking the shack and causing splinters and boards to fall from the rafters as it became apparent it would not hold for more than a minute. The child looked back into Drusilla's eyes.
"We must go, now. What is your name, child?"
"Ophelia"
"Come with me, Ophelia"
Drusilla firmly grasped Ophelia's wrist and guided her out of the falling building.
As Ophelia slipped out the door the walls swayed and gave way, crumbling into the earth. Drusilla swiftly scooped her up into her arms and sprinted away from the oncoming Garlean army. Most of the soldiers were conscripts, unlike Drusilla. A reaper, a traitor, a refugee.
They hid in a small culvert to avoid the invasion.
"Do you have a surname, Ophelia?"
Ophelia stared blankly past Drusilla, holding her eyes still but shakes sneak through.
"I see."
Drusilla smiled knowingly as she thought, her mind finally having a small space to think. Why had she saved this child? In her time roaming the land she had seen countless children orphaned by the slaughter of the Empire. Perhaps she recognized something in her eyes. Hunger. Fear. Pain. No, it was something else. She had seen the child's eyes dart around the room, forming strategy and noting her exits before looking to Drusilla for guidance. She was sharp. She was like her.
Ophelia had caught her breath now, and was fiddling with one of the tears in her tunic.
"Where would you like to go?"
Smooth metal presses into skin, like a water pressing against a dam on the verge of collapse. The skin shatters under the pressure and the metal slides through, carving a tunnel and tearing ridges in it's walls. It searches for it's mark, flesh and bone fighting it's force but cracking under the assault. Ophelia breathes in sharply. The bullet enters her spine. She blacks out.