MALADIED

1. The Liberators

Exactly five years, it took my master to bring me back to life, without my consent. I thought I was finally met with eternal peace. I could kick back and let whatever the Gods planned to do with the body of the weak Latem Firstmane. But my master had other plans. Plans that were beyond my anticipation.

My master encased my dead body in his former tomb, not to be touched by outsiders. I was all bones yet treasured, even in my death. Now, I live to carry out his burdens.

I was back at my birthplace, Rye Village. My house was just by the village centre, where imperial guards used to post news on the bulletin boards. Now, the boards were left lopsided, its beams sticking out of the ground, like markings in a graveyard. In the centre of the village was a pile of corpses. Some were left in their original position. Those who were lucky got piled up and set ablaze.

On the ground, just next to the bulletin board, where the grass was reluctant to grow, I lined up two bodies that had wronged me in my past life. It was a clearing with dead patches of grass, once used to be full of mosquitoes and tall grass. A clearing where children used to play around. I pulled down my mask that covered my nose and mouth and, in an instant, the smell of ashes and burnt skin and flesh engulfed my senses. It was foul and retched, but not as foul as what these two bodies did to me.

I knelt on one knee and examined the first body that was consumed by my flames. A man of no worth, no name, no virtue - my wretched father. Its forehead was burned with the Mark of Malady, it was a mark that my master branded to the wrongdoers. I pulled back one of its eyelids, and indeed, it was also burned. It was consumed by Malady; lucky it didn't rip off its flesh to consume. Knowing it for the whole of my past life, it'd rip off someone else's instead. Hell, it'd even rip off a dog's leg if it was that desperate.

To the next of this body, was the body, or more like the half of the body of the former captain of the forest rangers. A man who would never utter a good word, a tongue made of slugs. Its lower half was decapitated, and its guts spilt out, leaving a trail of blood and faeces. I pulled back its eyelid and wouldn't you know it, another mark.

The sky was greyish red mixed with a purplish hue, the flames from the mountain of corpses stretched into the sky like it was reaching out for a hug towards the Gods - the foul beings of The Oasis. If one thing the spirits needed to do was to repent for their sins.

I felt content, I laid down with my back against the ground, my chest against the sky, also ignoring the lifeless bodies next to me. Strange, it was a different kind of content. I feel liberated from my past. I am no more Latem Firstmane the village forest ranger. I am now Latem Firstmane the Child of Malady. And I must carry out the burden of my master.

My master was a hero of old. When Constegra was consumed by Malady, he sacrificed himself, sealed the Mark of Malady in him and encased himself in his tomb far away in the deserts of the Camille Empire. People went on with their lives as if a kind soul wasn't wasted for their own.

My master was, what you could say, lucky. He tamed the Malady and broke out of his tomb. While back in Rye, I was being tormented, spat on, and shamed for fraternizing with the Malady. I pleaded and pleaded and where did it get me? Wrists and neck shackled to the cold wall of the underground dungeon of the forest ranger's base, eyes blindfolded, fear of spreading the Malady. I was left to never see the sunlight. And my beaten and bloodied body and weakened spirit died a few weeks later.

I sighed. I wished everything could end sooner. Now, I was back for revenge, five years later. And five years later, the very same village that shackled me was levelled to the ground, in ashes and nothing but bare bones and teeth remain.

***

Somewhere in the Capital, celebrations and festivities were raging. Houses and stalls were decorated with red and pink bougainvillaea, the sky was illuminated by floating lanterns, and the people of the kingdom were congregating about to celebrate their king's fiftieth reign. People were in their best suits and dresses, hairstyles done to accentuate their features, and children of the capital were running around, chasing each other for their stolen candy from the grown-up children. It was too serene and peaceful. I scoffed in disgust.