Jarrak - Unwanted Surprise

"Ulu sslig'ne ussta delmah lu'ussta ssinssrigg, or'shansene z'klaen tlu morfel"*. This is what Jarrak had been telling himself for quite a while. Sacrifice was a constant part of his life; his parents had sacrificed him for a small bit of power and gold, and master Alarak had sacrificed himself so that Jarrak could escape capture. He had made sacrifices of blood and body in exchange for forgotten knowledge. Sacrifices, he kept telling himself, were to make way for progress.

As he and Lamorak looked into how to thwart the Beast's attacks, he had found more at stake than just the destruction of the Grove. When the King had decreed that the Arcanist's Guild will contribute to the defense with the militia, Jarrak had thought others knew as well. He spent days in study, spell development, and experimentation. Understanding the scope of the threat, he sacrificed his good health and wholeness of body for more power to defend the Grove, Helzbelt, and most of all beloved Alanyia.

When aid to the Grove was recalled, he saw that there would be more sacrifices to penalize him; he could withdraw from the Arcanist's Guild and the service of Helzbelt and lose home and friends he had made, or to choose loyalty over both logic and love. He was told by the King that as long as Alanyia requested his help, then he would not have to make that choice. Relief filled him, certain that for once there would be no sacrifices.

Stepping across the unmarked boundary to the Grove, Jarrak felt sudden sensations of intense pain and nausea radiate from his desiccated left arm, now always covered in a sheath of elven steel to hide the horrid thing from everyone, including himself. He pounded the armored appendage into a stone marker, denting the steel as his discomfort increased in intensity the further moved into the once peaceful retreat. He ran from the Grove, stumbling and confused, crossing the invisible threshold of the magical barrier.

The nausea and pain vanished, almost as if it had never existed. He looked at the shadowed path, daring to take another foray it, and was immediately punished with another assault upon his senses. Now, though, he understood. The Grove had been warded. He wanted to smile, knowing that the Grove was safer now, but he was unable to. All that he could think is that his last sacrifice, one made for the greater good of the Kingdoms and for the love of Alanyia, had cost him something even more dear to him than his arm.

"To defend my home and my love, sacrifices must be made."