Perceived Fate

Gerald couldn’t describe his feelings when he had heard Jerome had died. It was him that left the demon in the camp but never did he think that his friends would die.

Anger, sadness, for once he questioned his love of hunting. One of his better friends had just died and it likely wouldn’t even be the last. Malum had taken a large hit and with that their group had weakened quite severely.

Gerald had put all that responsibility on himself. He would need to grow stronger to fill that gap. For once, he didn’t fight the demons for fun. Instead he was desperately looking for way to grow stronger.

He hated seeing Malum in that bed, a person stronger than him. Someone he knew to be the Leader, was taken to down to just a hospital patient.

A man so strong should never have looked so weak. Jokes were out of the window and Gerald become considerably more serious. He spoke less in general and instead hunting more and practiced more.

Alicia and Jake had taken the news far worse than himself. Jake especially, the man was surprisingly emotional to the death.

The funeral was done without Malum because law dictated that they must return to the other realm as quick as possible and so that left the entire ordeal a mix of shock and grief.

They had adapted much like him and focused on growing their strength to fill the gap. The three focused as much as possible, never would they splinter the team again and never was somebody else allowed to die.

The sun rose on another day in the realm. Trees swayed and birds began to chirp. Malum woke to these loud bastards and after cursing them to death, he got changed and went down to the training yard.

It wasn’t really a training yard, moreso a garden for the patients but the greenery gave space for swinging a sword so Malum used it as he liked.

The summer sun had long gone and instead came the cold breeze of autumn. Winter was coming but they still had a few weeks of heat left before it began to affect them.

It took a few hours before one of the nurses came with some food. Some brown sick looking sludge was provided but as bad as it looked, it was nutritious so Malum was forced to gulp it down. Somehow he never got used to the taste.

After the tree had finally received its final beating, Malum decided to pack up. Usually he would stay until nightfall but today was the day he would be discharged.

He left his lunch for whatever poor rat found it in the garbage and walked towards the Town Hall. The hospital was located not in the city but instead in a fairly large town closer to the Outpost.

Wooden instead of stone, the wall around the town was still a marvel of creation. Malum could see it over the wooden houses scattered across the muddy roads.

It wasn’t busy so nobody managed to knock into Malums shoulder. Still, he kept a distance just in case. Gentle movements didn’t hurt but anything to strenuous or sudden would still provoke a reaction.

The Town hall was again, the best-looking building in the settlement and inside Malum found the interior to be reflecting that very fact. He asked the receptionist for his arrangements and found that a horse had been prepared for him.

Surprised at the luxury, Malum went to see his steed and found his horse in a nearby set of stables.

Flounder’s Horses was the name and Malum eyed the carved horse on the sign. It was a great piece of artwork and the detail was fascinating.

He picked up the horse from a kind person who looked a bit like Jake, but ignoring the resemblance Malum fed the good boy and then mounted the animal.

Patting its neck, he held the reins as he drew back his lessons on horsemanship with his Uncle. Riding was a skill just like any weapon, and so it was included in his early year lessons.

He was given a prepared bag of food and a map before given a deadline to arrive to the Outpost. Malum wandered who they knew he rode before he thought back to when he choose his weapon. It was one of those questions.

Still, that was when he had both working arms and so he soon learned that perhaps he wasn’t as good as he remembered.

After a few close incidents that threatened another broken limb, Malum managed to get into the hang of it and on the road it only got smoother.

The sun went down as Malum enjoyed some horse riding, an activity he found painful and relaxing at the same time.

A few beasts met him on the journey towards the Outpost, none were as threatening as a demon so they were quickly sorted out.

It did provide Malum some practical experience of how his arm would function in battle and it was pretty much just for balance.

The shield he placed on the arm couldn’t be used properly so instead Malum used it to balance out some extra strong swings.

It wasn’t a perfect arrangement by any means, and Malum would train his arm to eventually return to normal but it was a far better situation then it could have been.

With optimism making it’s appearance Malum found himself returning to the gates of hell. The Outpost, in all its rickety glory.

Past the gate, Malum passed his horse to some messenger looking fellow. The bundle of papers practically overflowing from his sacks helped in that observation.

He wished the man luck and got some luck wished on him in return. He then went deeper into the Outpost where he checked out the training ground to find his squad.

His eyes softened when he saw their training bodies. He instinctively looked for the other but remembered he wouldn’t be seeing him again.

He wished Jerome the best and wiped the sadness from his face. He drew his sword and charged down the hill.

“GERALD!” Malum screamed.

Gerald quickly turned to see who said his name, and saw the figure of his team Leader running at him with his sword drawn. He nearly laughed but after seeing him not slow down he prepared himself to defend.

He knew Malum got weaker, but he still reckoned the man had some fight left in him.

And after their blades collided Gerald was happy he had thought so. Somehow the swing was stronger than normal and after a short he realised the attacks came quicker.

Loosing an arm had shifted Malums style from defence to offense, after all, as his Uncle would say `the best defence is a good offense`.

After a few more attacks, Malum left off the fight and decided to call it quits. He didn’t want to be fighting for an hour with Jake and Alicia just standing there.

“Sorry Gerald, can’t be fighting all day can we?” Gerald gave off a knowing nod before Malum turned to see Alicia and Jake surprise written over their faces.

“You can fight?” said Jake.

“Not even loosing arm makes the monster weaker!” Malum joked as he moved his shield arm around.

“You can use it?” asked Alicia, in even more surprise.

“Oh hell no, hurts like a bitch if I ever even try to use it. But, for balance and other weak things I can still use. Deflecting is also possible. Yeah, so my style will really need to change but it’s not nearly as bad as it could be.”

“That’s good to hear.” Said Alicia as she patted him on the back. “Good to see the monster still walking.”

Malum felt relieved for some reason that his teammates thought little of his fall in strength. Doubt always managed to sow seeds inside Malum’s head and thoughts of abandonment caused him a few nights of unrest.

The banter continued until they reached they mess hall where Malum had some slightly better nutrition paste. Sitting around the table, chatter always remaining loud inside the hall, Malum group talked about their new roles in combat.

Gerald was taking more of a butchering role and Malum would stick back more and deal with the leftovers. Jake and Alicia would shift from delivery to butchering depending on what was needed.

It wasn’t perfect but until Malum had sorted out his new style, or until his arm healed it was what was best for the team.

Looking around the hall, whilst Gerald swayed onto less important topics, Malum saw several Troop Leaders entering the hall.

It wasn’t code for people to salute on entry in a private space but eying them up in unease was still common practice.

They skipped the que, because of course they did, and Malum overheard some of their talking as they got their meats and fruit.

“That idiot is going to get us ...”

“How do ... implement ... it?”

It thankfully had quietened down once they entered or Malum wouldn’t have manged to get even that. A few more mutterings was heard and Malum picked up on the fact that they were unhappy about some change implemented likely by a higher up.

Perhaps it was training. The demonic trainer Commander was perhaps changing something to his regime but Malum had caught onto the fact that he was popular, not some `idiot`.

What other changes could they even make. Changing teams was something Malum would rather die than doing but that made no sense unless you wanted to fragment teamwork and get even more killed and whilst subtly Malum reckoned they could do that they certainly couldn’t blatantly do a reshuffle before a wave. That was just murder.

They weren’t popular, and they changing something. Malum thought back to the only unpopular higher up he knew. That Baron who did the terrible speech. The one who wanted achievements.

Okay, that was better it was likely him who did that change but then what would he even change.

Its wouldn’t be the defensive strategy, that was too dumb. Changing of equipment wouldn’t be hard to implement, changing of food rations the exact same. But then what could it be?

Malum needed to think more but he hadn’t the clues to figure it out.

With the unease left with no answer, the day continued as preparation for the wave continued. Food rations were stocked and people shoved down as much paste as they could into their bellies.

Sharpening swords could be heard nearly all day and even into the night the sound of metal meeting metal didn’t end. Malum couldn’t sleep, partly because of the sound but also the unease brought about by those Troop Leaders.

As time passed and the moon shone threw the ceiling, Malum decided enough was enough and went to see his Troop Leader in his hut. The nicer huts were located together, closer to the administration building and after a brisk late-night walk, he knocked on the door of his Troop Leader.

Malum waited for a response, after a short minute he heard footsteps then an undoing of a hook. The door opened and the Troop Leader stoic face brightened when he saw Malum standing outside.

“Thank God you’re not one of those pale faced twats. Come in solider.”

Malum walked in and saw a table to sit at, he pulled out a chair and sat and so did the Troop Leader. A fire made up the lighting of the room, it also provided a fair amount of heat against the autumn night.

“You’ve healed well, your muscles remain as good as when you entered. It’s a good you know, many who go on sick leave come back looking like there’ve gone to a temple of the God of Eating and never left.”

Malum smiled at the compliment and thanked him for his words. He was proud of his hard work, if nothing else it’s the best he could do.

The God of Eating was an interesting comment. It wasn’t something any village would hear about; it was a God exclusive to Nobles and wealthy merchants and so commoners heard little of their exploits.

With that in mind, the Troop Leader strayed away from that and asked the question, “So why are you here?”

Malum started to explain, “I heard this morning about an order from a higher up, they talked about how it was stupid and hard to implement but I didn’t catch what it actually was.”

Now that got some movement on the Troop Leader’s face,

“Heard about that early did you? It’s the change of strategy from defensive to offensive, under the barest of that fat child you heard a speech from a while back. The chances of any squad member and leader surviving the next 3 months, I wouldn’t expect more than 10 to live. Although your group stands better chances, if that helps.”

“Fuck!”

Malum said, his body not even moving from his chair. He could smack every object in the room and it still wouldn’t express his anger. Jerome was gone and now his other friends were likely to die as well.

And again, what could he do about it?

`I just have to accept it. Die for someone else’s ambitions!`

He cursed the realm, the Dao unfair nature and especially the Baron bastard who had set the whole scheme up.

“Calm down Malum. Anger won’t do you any good.” He spoke with serenity in his voice. Malum looked over with his anger fuelled eyes. He didn’t want to be told what to do, but luckily logic prevailed.

`Right, I need to calm down. Breath.`

As he calmed he listened into his Troop Leader words,

“I’m going to do my best to keep our position as good as possible, there will also be large change in the teams as they split down into smaller groups. Instead of around 10 you should be expecting to see 6 or perhaps 5 per group. Your original team, I will ensure that you stay together and I will also try to get others from my Troop into your squad.

Otherwise, there’s not much I can do. I will have to visit many frontlines to report the situation and help out so I will see you but except my luck I can offer you nothing else. It’s a shit situation made by an idiotic child, sadly that child was a born with reputable parents.”

They both looked down in sadness and anger.

Malum thanked the man and wished him luck, in turn he received a payer and they then shook each other’s hand.

“You tried your best Malum, from start to finish I have seen nothing but your all. I commend you not only as a solider but as person as well. If you do not die in the coming months then I wish we meet later in life to share a few drinks. Name’s Jameson Smith.”

Malum shook his hand and said, “It would be a pleasure Jameson. I will see you for drinks anytime.”

With that done, Malum walked out the door and waved his hand around a bit.

`God that hurt.`

He shook with the wrong hand but didn’t want to ruin the moment.

After looking back, he turned and walked down back his bed. Sleep was needed now as they had a long day ahead of him.

`The situation may be beyond terrible and I may die in the next day or two, but at least I’ve met a few good people along the way.`

It was a nice thought, although for someone as young as 17 it wasn’t something that should have been said so young.

The sun fell and soon it rose again. A mortals life worth nothing more than the plants they ate.