Vendetta's Rise (The Dragon Realms Saga: Book 1)

Chapter 22

Alue, please whisper in my ear,

Guard me from the wicked in this world,

In your grace I shall find no fear,

Your mercy is my shield, your love is my sword,

"Don't let him die, Mender!" A voice broke out as Jetta tried desperately to triage the wounds of the dying man before her. Her hands were a clumsy, shaky mess. She prayed again, harder.

Alue, please whisper in my ear,

Guard me from the wicked in this world!

In your grace I shall find no fear!

Your mercy is my shield, your love is my sword!

"His life is in your hands, and your incompetence is killing him!" The voice lashed out again. The dying man did not flinch or cry out in agony as she weaved the needle in and out of his raw flesh. He just lay there, a bloody, motionless heap. A deeper, more severe panic began to set in on Jetta and she desperately tried to mend the broken body before her.

Alue, please whisper in my ear...

"He's dead." Tyric stood across from Jetta with his arms folded and a disgusted look scrawled across his face.

Jetta folded forward in agony and wept, her eyes hot with tears. Her hands were drenched in blood. She slowly lifted a blood soaked gauze from a gaping puncture wound under the ribs of the corpse in front of her.

"Not everyone can be saved. You must come to terms with this." The medic's voice was emotionless as he spoke. He gestured for the other medics to come and carry the corpse away. They swiftly moved forward and lifted the body. One medic lifted it by its arms, the other by the legs.

Jetta was mortified at her abject failure. Her mind raced. What could I have done differently? A million different scenarios played out in her head at once and she found respite in none of them. Then a dark anger rose up inside of her. "There was nothing I could do, was there?" Her voice did not even thinly veil her fury and disgust. She looked up from her bloody, quivering hands, "Why would you purposefully kill this man? To teach me some petty lesson?!"

The instructor shrugged off her reproach and placed a hand on Jetta's shoulder. "He was a criminal, a no name vagabond. His life did not matter until he was used for this lesson. We gave him a purpose to fulfill. Do you weep when you tug a weed from a flower bed?"

"No," Jetta hotly replied and wiped the warm tears from her face.

"Then you do not have to weep now." Tyric passed a warm wash cloth to the student. "Clean yourself up. In the future you'll see weeds be pulled and their death will allow flowers blossom. Weep when you must, otherwise make sure that above all else, you did your job."

Jetta took the towel and walked away, shaken and angry from the ordeal. Alue, where are you? 

***

Jetta rested under a large gnarled tree. Its branches were dotted with tiny flower buds and a crisp early spring breeze waved the leaves in a slight rocking motion. She held a medallion in her hands. Its silver linked chain was wrapped around her wrists and locked her hands together. Her eyes were shut in concentration as she whispered a set of prayers in a now forgotten tongue.

Speak to me O' angel of mine,

And let the sun upon me shine,

Take me to your world above,

Fill my heart with mercy, grace, and love,

Chase away the wings like shadow,

And calm me in your gentle meadow,