The rosebush burned in labored flames. Ice melted from the heat, turning into water in order to combat the crackling embers.
Hitirus rested beside the fence, belly pressed against the grass. Searing wounds slowly healed as a constant warm breeze torched his injuries.
"Damn Befehlnadir... he's always going to be a coward," Hitirus sharply inhaled. "Just needa fix this wounds before I can keep going."
"But you won't progress far if you lie about doing nothing," the Melted Thawed replied. "Get up and continue moving."
"Otherwise a wondering predator could find you," the Brittle Ice Thawed added.
Hitirus agreed with them. He struggled to his knees, trying to protest against the pain with his sheer Will Power.
Although, it seemed to backfire more than help. Blood poured out of the wounds, rushing as pressure built up around them.
"Argh... th - that's so... AH!" Hitirus yelled. He gritted his teeth, hoping to stop himself from catching unwanted attention. "Come on, I can do this."
The struggle continued until he finally stood up. Blood continued to run down his back, tainting his shirt and pants with the nasty metallic liquid.
Now wasn't the time to abruptly stop to endure, it was the time to move. Night was quickly approaching, everyone in Coshire felt the Far Fetcher ready to pounce on the sun again.
Hitirus pressed on, taking one step. Then the next. He felt complete agony as the wounds on the back of his legs ached.
Every gust of wind didn't help either. Especially since each one carried either dust particles or pollen. Adding more to the pain.
Yet he continued to march on, gritting his teeth all the way. As he walked, he thought about what Befehlnadir told him.
The strangest part was when he mentioned the most unlikely candidate doomed the two of them. He pondered for a moment, hoping that would take his mind off the pain.
"H - hold on... I don't recall a - anything o - other than my training. I - I don't know what he - he's talking about," Hitirus groaned.
All he could recall of his earlier years was being torn away from his parents. Thrown in a cage, left alone and with barely any food. While being given water every week.
Clearly not enough to support a Virrwertsur. During his time inside of the cage, he wasn't given enough affection. Probably the reason why his inner Threshers turned on him.
Not enough action probably contributed to his Ferals suddenly hating him. Seeing Hitirus as a shut-in who couldn't go outside.
The only interaction he got was with a disciplinary teacher. Constantly coming in and beating him half to death while mocking his state.
Probably the cause for his inner Zegi to hate him. Getting into constant fights with the teacher, and winning none meant he wasn't strong enough to handle them.
Which left the Thawed. They were depraved of their nature. No way to worship the Nine, learn rituals, even hear legends to bless their lives with guidance.
Simply nothingness. They didn't expand because they were forced not to expand, resulting in them disliking Hitirus. What's more, is they realized his Will Power never grew.
"H - hold on... yeah, th - that's probably it," Hitirus murmured. "We'll - we'll see what happens s - soon. I promise to - to give you what I couldn't."
The extreme blood loss began taking its toll on Hitirus. Causing his breathing to become labored and weak.
Even his legs were beginning to lose their balance. Almost toppling Hitirus twice already. His situation wasn't looking good.
But he wasn't going to die and wait for his body to heal. That would further paint the picture of him being a quitter. No Zegus wants that.
Hitirus reached for his chest. "Melted Thawed... please..."
As requested, his chest turned black from all the ash and flames. It divided towards the center, allowing flowing magma to pour out of it to his hand.
It burned hot, causing Hitirus to scream in pain. He howled, showing he was determined to push through until there wasn't a possibility of survival.
He reached towards the wounds, then pressed as hard as he could. Flesh burned and melted over the holes.
"ARGH! I'M NOT DYING TO A DAMN BUSH!" Hitirus howled in total rage.
After all the magma dropped between his torched fingers, he reached to his chest for more. Then repeated the process. Patching wounds and enduring.
By early dusk, Hitirus collapsed onto his knees. Gasping for air. He rubbed his Brittle Ice hands over the injuries.
"Yeah, that's it. Just need to keep rubbing this on me," Hitirus whispered.
While he rested, the Zegi within him looked at his body's condition. Nearly dead. He wasn't in the position for battle because he already had his own battle.
They exchanged murmurs, low enough so Hitirus couldn't even hear them. After a short conversation, they came to a common agreement: he learned.
Finally, after all these years, he understood what made a Zegus. Not their willingness to fight. But their willingness to move onto the next fight.
Most other Thawed rested alongside the seed of the tree, admiring it. They cheerfully smiled, accepting this new change.
"It grew! It grew! His Will Power!" the standard Thawed male cheered.
"Could this be a sign of what's to come? Was the other Virrwertsur all that he needed to learn?" the female Brittle Ice Thawed commented.
A Feral approached the group, growling lowly. "Beautiful, isn't it? All that he needs to do now is do something with his strengths. He isn't wild, just mild. If he keeps this up, we'll end up killed by the next King."
The female Brittle Ice glanced at him, then nodded in approval. "You're right, Ferals hold merit to their methods. You're the mobility and loyalty. He needs to learn how to use you."
While they exchanged suggestions, Hitirus finally felt better. Still weak, unable to do much. But still better.
His eyes looked up to the rising moons. A possible hint that this was his last night as Hitirus.