☤‡ A Battle-Brother's Vigil ‡☤

[DancingZebra267 397]

 

 

 

 

 

In the hallowed halls of the Holy See, next to Whitespire, chaos and despair gripped the sanctified air. Shattered remnants of Brother Aleksei's armor lay scattered amidst pools of blood, a gruesome tableau that bespoke a recent and violent struggle. Gerard, a holy knight devoted to the sacred cause, hastened towards the scene, drawn by an unsettling feeling that something dire had transpired.

Amidst the gruesome aftermath, Gerard's keen senses detected a faint, almost imperceptible sound—the feeble breath of a fellow brother. His attention shifted to Jurkha, a stalwart companion in arms, who lay sprawled with a javelin cruelly embedded in his shoulder. Without hesitation, Gerard hoisted Jurkha onto his broad shoulders, determined to transport his wounded comrade to safety.

 

 

 

Exiting the sacred confines of the cathedral, Gerard ventured into the unfamiliar territory of Sakigakure, 'The Hidden Village.' The urgent echoes of his calls for a medic roused the denizens from their homes, eager to extend a helping hand. Yet, as Jurkha was gently laid upon a makeshift medical cot, a troubling realization dawned—no medics were in sight.

Undeterred by the absence of professional healers, Gerard, driven by a sense of duty and desperate resolve, assumed the role of a makeshift medic. His hands moved with practiced precision, assessing the severity of Jurkha's condition. The javelin, a menacing intruder in his flesh, demanded immediate attention.

"Fear not, mon ami," Gerard reassured, his voice a steady anchor in the storm. A clean cloth, a humble yet crucial tool, was pressed into service. Gerard's hands, guided by both skill and an unyielding determination, dislodged the javelin with a swift and calculated maneuver. As the wound opened, blood began to flow—a stark reminder of the fragile thread between life and death.

With unwavering resolve, Gerard fashioned a makeshift compress from the clean cloth, staunching the flow of blood. The room, heavy with tension, bore witness to a dance between life and mortality. Every movement, every calculated step, spoke of Gerard's commitment to preserving Jurkha's life.

As the makeshift bandage took shape, a palpable sense of relief filled the room.

 

 

 

Gerard's gaze shifted to the sleeping Jurkha, a warrior resting in the aftermath of a brutal skirmish. With a solemn heart, Gerard began to recite a prayer—a plea for divine intervention and a swift recovery. 

"Oh, Almighty GOD, healer of wounds and sustainer of life, I humbly beseech You to extend Your merciful hand upon Jurkha, brave and noble among us. May Your diving grace guide his path to swift recovery, soothing the wounds that afflict him and granting strength to his body and spirit. In your boundless compassion, O LORD, let Jurkha awaken to a renewed vitality, his eyes opening to the light of a new day. Bless him with resilience and fortitude as he journeys through the challenges of healing. May the healing energies of Your divine presence surround him, comforting and restoring his health. AMEN"

 As the prayer concluded, Jurkha stirred, roused from the realm of unconsciousness.

 

 

 

 

 

Yet, despite the intense pain that accompanied his awakening, Jurkha, a warrior through and through, refused the solace of painkillers. In his eyes, the pain was a penance—a deserved trial on the path of REDEMPTION

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Edited December 21, 2023 by DancingZebra267

[FashionBeard 224]

Halston sends thoughts and prayers to Gerard and Jurkha