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12: Curse of the Wounded

12: Curse of the Wounded

"This mark was a symbol of an old family in Diere -  the Mallat. The Mallats were known as a family of healers. They were once the best healers Diere have, but 200 years ago, they vanished into thin air."

"It was said that the Mallat clan  was murdered by the ministry..." Cahmir glanced at me, " but it was later on proven to be a lie." 

I squinted my eyes at him. I have never heard of this from anyone, even from Grandpa Douglas considering that I lived before them.

"One of the members of the family, Altraya Mallat, came at the doorstep of the ministr. Wounded. Bleeding from head to toe. She was asking for help from the ministry, and they immediately asked the healers to treat her."

"Altraya Mallat was never treated. Her wounds never healed no matter what they do. One of the healers who were helping her found it strange that the wound on Altraya's back looks like a mark. But she dismissed the thought as she thought it was just nothing."

"One after another, members of the Mallat clan kept appearing in front of the ministry, wounded and bleeding, just like Altraya. It was then that the healer saw the same pattern of wounds on their back. They tried to find its meaning, but nothing came up. Even from the neighboring lands."

"They became so ill, dying without healing. When Altraya was near her death, she confessed to one of the healers around her. That the reason why they were like that was because of one member of their family. Fanshary Mallat, her sister, made a form of healing, but the effect was contrary to what the effect must be."

"Fanshary Mallat made a form of healing that instead of healing, it curses the person she was supposed to be healing. The wounds would form a pattern on their back. Altraya died full of wounds, just like her family."

The silence in the room was deadly. Even the sound of our heavy breathing feels like a sin. The words that Cahmir has spoken still lingers in the air, filling  our thoughts as we try to understand everything.

Our eyes were fixed at the mark I drew that lies atop the table, and at what looks like the same mark that Cahmir drew on a separate paper beside it.

"That symbol is a curse. A curse that cannot be broken. That would make the wounds remain in the body no matter what mode of healing one would use."

"It was the reason why the mark was called curse of the wounded."

I inhaled deeply. I have heard of this mark before. It was considered as myth, as there were no records of people suffering from this curse.

However, our time before is different from this time. 

There would be things that we consider as myths before that would resurface today, and there would also be things that people today would consider as myth, but not in our time.  

"People who wield such curse practice ancient form of healing."

And this form of healing was banned. Harmful, not only to the patient, but to the healer who uses it.

I could remember as Grandpa Douglas strictly teaching me about this form of ancient healing, about what it can do, and about what needs to be done. He would emphasize not to practice it. Because it will never bring good to the people.

A healer heals. Not bring sickness. 

"How did you heal him?" Faustin asked me. I shook my head.

 "I don't know. But I know that the wounds on his back has no pattern. The symbol was inside his body." 

We fell into another silence. My eyes never left the symbols, and I can feel their stares at me. However, just like them, I have no idea how I managed to heal him. 

The loud ringing of bells took our attention from the subject. I hurriedly stood up as I realized the time, and what I was supposed to do. I grabbed the basket I brought earlier as it was already late in the evening and I still need to give it back. 

The food intended for Mallari and Variano were transferred to another container and were left untouched. I glanced at the two and smiled sadly as I watched their hands clasped to each other, breathing in an almost the same rhythm.

"I'll be going." Cahmir nodded. I stopped myself from smiling a little upon noticing that the anger I saw before was already gone. At the very least, there is already an improvement with our relationship. The way he shared what he knew made me feel like I was able to prove him that it was never my family's fault.

"I'll accompany you back." I was about to protest when Faustin held his hand in the air and stopped me from talking. I quietly inhaled as he took the basket from me.  I have no energy for quarrels.

"Just to the kitchen." He nodded and smiled.

"Just to the kitchen." Faustin repeated.

We sneaked inside the kitchen. They were already busy cleaning and ending their day. There were so many things they need to clean, and no one was minding two people quietly watching them.

I roamed my eyes around and tried to find someone who I need to find. Faustin helped me too, as he, too, knows her. But we couldn't see even a strand of her hair. 

We were about to take another step forward when a face appeared in front of us. We luckily held our balance as we jumped back, nearly stumbling to the ground.

"Haven't I told you to give it back early?" I bit my lips and smiled apologetically. Mila, the elderly woman, shook her head disapprovingly as I hand her the basket with clean plates and utensils. She took it back silently and helped us not to get noticed by the others.

It was only after I got into my room when I felt the tiredness in my body. I slumped my back on the bed and stared at the glamorous ceiling. My mind wandered to the alliance I formed with the king who was from a family considered as traitors, and to the mark I have seen in Variano's body before my consciousness carried me to the void.

The sun has not yet risen when I went out to the kitchen. I intentionally woke up early to get to the library and visit one section that was intentionally hidden to the public's eye. 

Mila waved her hand after seeing me as she pointed to the chair beside her. She was having breakfast with the others, and upon seeing her hand, they turned to look at me.

I proceeded to walk and shyly sat down beside her after she went back to her seat with my food. I muttered thank you, but was dismissed immediately, again, with her hand. From the stares they were giving me, I knew they wanted to fire some questions, but I would catch Mila's eyes widening at them before they look away.

I gratefully smiled at her when our eyes met. Mila just gave me a wink.

Looking at how they eat hurriedly and glance at the huge grandfather clock, I pressured myself to do the same. They smiled and muttered thank you as I helped them clean the table before proceeding to their work. I made sure that the tables we used were thoroughly cleaned before I left them.

The walk to the library was unsurprisingly silent. However, it gave me comfort while walking alone in this deserted hallway. It gave me time to think about what I had to do, to plan for what is coming.

I sighed quietly when I felt no presence in the room aside from me. I made a light from my dust and let it float above my hand as I walked towards the section I failed to reach the first time I went here. 

I stared in front of the wall and held my hand higher. My dust traveled, tracing the path of the concrete, illuminating the library with its light, until I saw a small opening from the far corner of the wall. My heartbeat became frantic, and right there I knew I was close to finding something worth it.