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I laid down and in the middle of the night, I awoke. I swear I heard the shutters of my window slam against the wall. I arose to go to the window and fixed the shutters closed. Then I hear the voice I know I will remember forever. It sounded like a blade scraping across a whetstone, “Greetings young healer. I have come for negotiations.”
I saw the one that spoke to me. He had a black cloak with a hood covering his head. I turned my head to see his face and saw nothing but shadow. I looked hurriedly for my wand and I couldn’t find it. I took a huge breath to yell for Paul our house-elf to raise the Schloss’ defenders.
The being raised his skeletal hand, “Save thy breath, oh follower of my nemesis, no one but you can see or hear me.” He points to my bed, “Observe!” He pointed and I saw my body sleeping soundly in the bed.
He looked deeply at me. He said, “ I see my nemesis’ influence as well as your reverence for Brigantia and Math Mathonwy.”
I looked at him strangely. I just wonder the manner of demonic beast I looked at.
He said, “I know you know whom I am. I’ve heard you curse my name on more than one occasion. For seven years you gave your allegiance to Math Mahonwy. Today Brigantia and a lass in London hold your heart’s sway.”
“I’ve come to make a bargain: one that would be costly, but very valuable, to one of your leaning.
“Anytime your skill seems to falter, call out my name and your patient will survive; for a price. If you want the patient to survive and thrive, the price will be greater to your soul.
“For I am Balor, the God of Death of yore. The name your parents have given you is Earnest MacMillan. The name you have chosen for yourself and is being etched on your soul. Tell me in the name you’ve signed countless times, Noden’s Wizard, what is your choice in our bargain?”
I sit down heavily on the side of my bed. Bloody Hell! Why did he come to see me? I’ve never cursed Balor himself, just Death saying I won’t let you have my patient.
My great-great-grandfather did teach me the legends of the old gods and goddesses. He said, “Few if any worship them anymore and just a few more than that know their names. Knowing these things Ernie, shows us ourselves for we have been walking the highlands since the ancient gods, now spirits of magic walked here themselves.”
I can’t believe one such as he throwing the names of Math Mathonwy., the god of sorcery, Brigantia, the goddess of birth and midwifery, and finally Noden the god of healing as easy as I would Justin, Hannah, or Susan.
“Name your terms, milord Balor”, I say.
“You are fated for almost ten score of years, young healer. Every time you call on my name to insure a patient’s survival, it would cost you naught but five of them.”
While I still couldn’t see his face, I knew he was smiling.
“For your patient’s survival and where they will thrive—I will take something from you, that you will know at the end of your days. It may be love, or a life yet to come that you will never see.
“Think my bargain over and answer me in a fortnight when I come again,” he said.
I awoke at 5 a.m. with my heart pounding in my chest, sure it was but a dream.
Even though I still have almost thirty-six hours left of my day off, I sat and filled out the application to the surgical program and signed and dated it.
“Noden.” I called.
Noden fliew over to my desk and held out his foot. I attached the application to his talon and said, “Take it to Healer Pye, please Lad.”
He looked at me reproachfully and hooted at me for a few second as if saying, “My perch has been empty for too long. We see him at work, why isn’t this letter to Susan and Harmony?” With a final disdainful hoot as if saying, “Fool” he took wing and flew towards St. Mungo’s.
I saw the one that spoke to me. He had a black cloak with a hood covering his head. I turned my head to see his face and saw nothing but shadow. I looked hurriedly for my wand and I couldn’t find it. I took a huge breath to yell for Paul our house-elf to raise the Schloss’ defenders.
The being raised his skeletal hand, “Save thy breath, oh follower of my nemesis, no one but you can see or hear me.” He points to my bed, “Observe!” He pointed and I saw my body sleeping soundly in the bed.
He looked deeply at me. He said, “ I see my nemesis’ influence as well as your reverence for Brigantia and Math Mathonwy.”
I looked at him strangely. I just wonder the manner of demonic beast I looked at.
He said, “I know you know whom I am. I’ve heard you curse my name on more than one occasion. For seven years you gave your allegiance to Math Mahonwy. Today Brigantia and a lass in London hold your heart’s sway.”
“I’ve come to make a bargain: one that would be costly, but very valuable, to one of your leaning.
“Anytime your skill seems to falter, call out my name and your patient will survive; for a price. If you want the patient to survive and thrive, the price will be greater to your soul.
“For I am Balor, the God of Death of yore. The name your parents have given you is Earnest MacMillan. The name you have chosen for yourself and is being etched on your soul. Tell me in the name you’ve signed countless times, Noden’s Wizard, what is your choice in our bargain?”
I sit down heavily on the side of my bed. Bloody Hell! Why did he come to see me? I’ve never cursed Balor himself, just Death saying I won’t let you have my patient.
My great-great-grandfather did teach me the legends of the old gods and goddesses. He said, “Few if any worship them anymore and just a few more than that know their names. Knowing these things Ernie, shows us ourselves for we have been walking the highlands since the ancient gods, now spirits of magic walked here themselves.”
I can’t believe one such as he throwing the names of Math Mathonwy., the god of sorcery, Brigantia, the goddess of birth and midwifery, and finally Noden the god of healing as easy as I would Justin, Hannah, or Susan.
“Name your terms, milord Balor”, I say.
“You are fated for almost ten score of years, young healer. Every time you call on my name to insure a patient’s survival, it would cost you naught but five of them.”
While I still couldn’t see his face, I knew he was smiling.
“For your patient’s survival and where they will thrive—I will take something from you, that you will know at the end of your days. It may be love, or a life yet to come that you will never see.
“Think my bargain over and answer me in a fortnight when I come again,” he said.
I awoke at 5 a.m. with my heart pounding in my chest, sure it was but a dream.
Even though I still have almost thirty-six hours left of my day off, I sat and filled out the application to the surgical program and signed and dated it.
“Noden.” I called.
Noden fliew over to my desk and held out his foot. I attached the application to his talon and said, “Take it to Healer Pye, please Lad.”
He looked at me reproachfully and hooted at me for a few second as if saying, “My perch has been empty for too long. We see him at work, why isn’t this letter to Susan and Harmony?” With a final disdainful hoot as if saying, “Fool” he took wing and flew towards St. Mungo’s.