Jerrit : pt3

Continued from Jerrit : pt2

He began immediately, drawing a wide circular glyph around the dwarven princess. He knew the symbols by heart, not glancing back at the book's notes once during the preparation.

"Here are the silver pieces." Came a voice behind him. "They were commissioned during Tradral the Wise's reign, so you will not find purer on Esolis."

"And here are the candles." Said the second dwarven cleric.

Jerrit continued his work without acknowledging either. The glyph had to be precise, and he was too obsessive to let them interrupt him. After a few moments, he stood up and studied his work, circling several times searching for imperfections.

Finally satisfied, he looked up at the women.

"Yes, the candles." he said reaching out.

"And the silver," added the first, clearly agitated.

With the final pieces he needed in hand, he went back to his bag and took out a simple wooden bowl and a small vial filled with a black powder. He knelt down at the front of the crib and began to place them in a smaller circular glyph. With all four candles surrounding the bowl he slid the coins in followed by the black powder. He stood back up and went to his bag for the last item. He withdrew another small vial, but this time a thick red liquid was held within, dove blood-- Koralenae's most blessed animal.

He was suddenly aware of just how completely silent the room had become. He could almost hear his own heart beating. No one had dared to interrupt his work, and even King Torgrum seemed to be holding his breathe. Out of awe or for the fear of what failure might mean for his daughter, Jerrit wasn't sure.

Still he stood up with the vial in hand and looked at the gathering.

"My great King, the healing ritual I am about to perform will no doubt be a great feat. One in fact, that may very well be recorded in Brindlethron's history books for future generations of dwarves to read about in their studies one day. I will need absolute silence." Jerrit's words echoed through the bedchamber.

He turned to the girl. It was time.

He focused his mind and began aloud.

"I, Jerrit, your chosen, seek your healing grace mighty Koralenae, our Eternal Mother, Bearer of the Healing Light, Purger of Plagues, The Compassionate Goddess, and Savior to the Sick. Grant me the strength to drive out this sickness from this girl, who has done nothing to deserve this foul fate."

White light began to emanate from the glyphs. Seeing this, he continued.

"Grant me the strength to mend her small body and heal her cracked lips. Grant me the strength to give her father back her laugh, and to purge this plague."

He stepped up with the red vial in hand and, holding his arm straight out, he started to pour the blood into the mixture of coins and powder. Immediately they started to bubble and fizz, reacting violently.

"Grant me your power Koralenae so that all in Brindlethron may know of your healing light!"

The coins began to melt and fuse with the mixture, turning the contents of the bowl into a boiling silvery red liquid as it continued to hiss. The glyph also continued to brighten. It's light had grown so incredibly intense, that Jerrit could see some of the onlookers to his side shield their eyes.

"Grant me the power…"

"NO!" a booming female voice interrupted him.

Jerrit's rhythm completely broken he hesitated a moment before continuing.

"Grant me your…"

"NO!" the voice came again.

It was so loud that Jerrit broke his line of sight on the girl, shaking his head. Something is wrong. He turned and scanned the room. No one else seemed to be reacting in any way. Had they not heard the voice too? Maybe it was just the curse trying to deny him from driving it out.

He raised his arm again and continued to pour, shouting out his remaining lines, determined not to be drowned out again.

"KORALENAE, I DEMAND THE POWER TO HEAL THIS GIRL!" The last drop fell into the bowl.

He knew immediately his mistake.

The silvery substance began to rise from the bowl. Folding in on itself as the form climbed higher and higher stretching upward. It began to arc towards Jerrit, and he thought for a moment it was alive, as he was convinced it looked at him. Then, it shot further up and arced towards the girl, racing at the ivory crib.

"No! No no no!" he reached out in vain. But it was too late.

And he was too far from the girl.

The silvery liquid flew at the princess. Covering the girl from head to toe, coating every inch of her. The light around the crib burst forth from the glyph brighter than any that Jerrit had witnessed before. He fell back and covered his eyes. The hiss had grown so loud, it drowned everything else out.

Everything but the girl. Nothing could drown the out that piercing wail from Jerrit.

And with another flash the room was dark.

His ears still ringing he tried to get his eyes to adjust. He attempted to pull himself from the floor. Stumbling back to his feet he stammered over to the crib- it's white ivory stained with blackened ash.

He shut his eyes. This was all a bad dream. He must be under some sort of spell. This was a vision from Koralenae, the gods were known to invoke very intense visions from time to time to serve whatever lesson they wanted to impart. This was just a bad dream.

He slowly peeked into the crib.

The girl soft flesh was gone, and in its place was a hardened silver statue of the girl. It's face contorted in pain and frozen in a scream. Jerrit's head began to spin again. The scream. All he could hear was that scream.

"GODS NO!" came a shout from behind him.

"Drinduma my sweet baby girl! NO!" the king wept. Torgrum grabbed up the heavy frozen body up and collapsed on the floor. He looked at the girl again and cried out. "GODS NO! GODS NO! WHY?! WHY GREAT BUILDER?!"

Jerrit didn't understand. He had done everything right, what happened to cause his misstep. He didn't know what to do. He should have never made a demand of Koralenae, but something had happened before that.

He wanted to scream out that he had done everything right, but he couldn't find enough strength to utter a single syllable. He took one step and placed his hand on the king as though that would make everything alright.

"Get your stinking hands off me you demon! YOU DAMNED DEMON! What did you do to my daughter demon?!"

"Great King Torgrum, I… I didn't..."

"SEIZE THE DEMON!" screamed the king through his tears.

Jerrit was soon converged on but was still so stunned from the events that took place, he didn't have a chance to react and soon found himself restrained by three of the king's palace guards.

"By the gods demon, you will undo this right now or you will suffer… you will suffer like no one has suffered before." Jerrit knew from the king's tone, he meant the threat whole-heartedly.

"Great King Torgrum," he said defensively, "I assure you I did nothing but try and save your daughter's life. I am no demon," he begged.

"Then I will take that as your answer. Your choice is to suffer then. So be it demon. You will undo this. Or I am not the King of Brindlethron." Torgrum continued to hold his daughter.

"Take him to Fringdol!" the king waived his hand at the guards. And as they drug him from the room, Jerrit knew this was not a dream…

 It was a nightmare.