Madru: Reborn
She approached the village slowly. Her feet refused to move the way I wanted them to. Her body struggled and resisted, fighting against the threads that had wrapped themselves around her limbs. It was an agonizing journey, for the body was malnourished and dehydrated. It was a struggle to wrestle control over it, as even the muscles had begun to decay to conserve energy. For three days and three nights, she sat in front of that tree. Finally, I answered her pleas.
There was a person standing far off in the distance. With what little power I had, I mustered her mouth to open. Something of a noise came from her dry throat, barely audible over the trees being rustled by the wind. However, it was just enough to work.
“Oh heavens, it’s Fals! Fals, what happened to you?”
“aaaa….” I struggled to respond. Between getting used to this new body, and the sickness that plagued it, there was so little I could do. I felt so weak. As I lost focus on controlling her body, her legs gave in and I fell to the ground. The knight ran over to me, dropping her weapon on the ground where she stood. Her heavy, plated armor clanged against itself. Before I could raise my head, she sat down beside me, trying to fetch me off the ground.
With a concerned tone, she addresses me once more: “Fals, your eye! We need to get you to the druids, now!” There was an audible panic in her voice. She must have some connection to this vessel, then. If only I could access her memories.
“N-no…” I muttered, straining her throat as much as possible. Get it together, girl. I need you to hold in there just a little longer. I can repair you.
The knight interrupts me. “Fals, we all thought you died out there! You look awful, we need to get you treated. Come on, get up. You can lean on me. It’s going to be okay.”
Realizing that this knight is my best chance at reaching the village, I let her hold me in her arms. She drags me, with all her strength, across the road. Step by step, slowly running out of breath. Yet, even as she carries me, I can still hear sniffing and crying beneath all that armor. Just who was this girl, before she offered her body up to me?
Before long, we made it to a small wooden building. The house seems to have been made from a hollowed out tree stump, and most of its facilities are rudimentary and poor. The doors barely held together, the floor was dirty and covered in soil, and the beds were rough and coarse. Not that I could complain, of course.
The knight quickly fetched me a carafe of water. WIth trembling hands, she nearly pours it over my face. I grab the carafe, and take a few slow sips from it. “You need to drink. You’re probably starving, too. Let me fetch you some of the food I have in reserve… I’m so sorry, Fals, I knew I should’ve come along. I told you, but you’re so damn stubborn…”
Finally, with my thirst quenched, I feel a little strength returning to my body. The truth is, though, that food won’t help me right now. Not yet, at least. If I’m going to eat, I need more time to take control over my host’s organs. And besides, I’ve come here with a goal, a mission. A purpose I need to fulfill, no matter what.
For the first time since I possessed this vessel, I managed to utter a full sentence: “I am not Fals. Not anymore.” The body resists. It trembles. Even in death, the very idea of me saying that absolutely abhors her. The knight looks at me, stunned. She scans my face for something, as if trying to read my expression. I force something of a smile on my face, before continuing.
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
“My name is Lady Coedraig. I have come to save your village.”
She nearly drops the plate she’s holding. She staggers, a little. “Fals,” she starts, shaking in her boots. This time, there is anger in her voice. It is palpable. “Don’t mess around like that. This isn’t funny.”
Extending my hand to her, I show her the mycelium threads growing on the body. Red, tiny threads, each running just beneath the skin. Then, I point towards the fungal bloom in my eye, leaking with honey.
“A young girl passed at the roots of the great tree. I took control of her, so that I might yet save you.” Still, the girl in front of me stands frozen. She stands in shock, completely paralyzed. After what seems like an eternity, she speaks.
“What did you do to Fals?” Again, those tears welling up in her eyes. She’s fragile, and emotional. For a knight so heavily clad in armor, she’s weak and brittle on the inside. Reaching for the girl’s prayer book in my robes, I lay it down on the bed beside me. It is covered in mud and mildew, with a barely visible crest drawn upon its cover. It is faded, well-used, and worn.
“I could not save her. But I can fulfill her wish, if you'll hear me out.”
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Leonard: No matter how many times.
The wet mud beneath my boots splatters across the ground. The smell of burning flesh and singed fur invaded my nostrils, nearly making me gag. I can never get used to this damned scent, no matter how many times it happens.
A group of wild hogs had run through the territory of the Tender Rust. Corralled there by a pack of wolves, they fled deep into its red-tinted woods. There, they contracted the disease and grew more aggressive. More sensitive to stimuli, too. The animals had gone into heat, after a brief incubation period. Then, running amok, they had returned to the edge of the forest to fight for territory.
We had to put them down. Every single one of them. We couldn’t risk them spreading the disease any farther than it already has. Unfortunately, one of our men was gravely wounded in the battle against these hogs, and took his own life. During the night, we could hear the cheers and celebrations coming from the village in the valley down below, while we were preparing our funerary rites. Savages. They don’t know what kind of problems they’ve caused for all of us.
One of my soldiers approaches me with a crestfallen look on his face. “Sir”, he says, in a downcast tone. “We’ve counted our rations. We have approximately enough for five days, as per schedule.”
“Why are you so gloomy, Edward?” I ask him sternly. I would rather not show undue sympathy to our men, lest we all fall into the trap of forever mourning our fallen comrades. We are fighting for a good, but dangerous, cause. We all knew that once we set up here at the border. We don’t have time to sit and dally.
“Sorry, sir. It’s just… A letter came in from his wife. He hadn’t gotten the time to finish his reply before the hogs attacked. And now…”
I nod to the soldier. “I shall see that the letter in its current state is delivered to his home, and that his wife be informed of his untimely, and unfortunate, death.” It’s true that Edward always kept in close contact with his wife abroad, even when we were still stationed in the village below. She must be worried sick if she doesn’t get a properly timed reply. It is my responsibility to handle these sorts of things for our soldiers.
What a mess this all is. All for a witch, a walking corpse. Had it been up to me, I would’ve run her on the burning stake first thing. Of course, the druids were never going to allow such violence. It angers me still, the way they pulled me apart and told me to stand down. Look what you’ve done, you damned fools.
Rain begins to fall. The water masks the scent of the pyre a little bit, but does little to raise our spirits. We remain stationed at the border, awaiting another day of trouble. As long as those festivities down there last, the forest will know no rest.