The next day, they made it to Shadecross an hour before noon. But by now, Lukas was far past the point of exhaustion. Every part of his body begged him to stop.
His legs were made of molten stone. His lungs burned with the fire of a forge. His throat was parched, in a drought and drier than a desert. His eyes were weighted down by all of the exhaustion he had experienced up until this point.
Skyla told Lukas that they would make it a Fortissimo outpost by the end of the day. Although, she told him it would still be difficult and there would be little to no breaks. They left after obtaining a few small supplies, such as flint and food.
It had rained the night prior, and the ground was soft and wet, slowing their progress if they were to travel off the main road. Fortunately, their path was to follow the main road until they hit the Springrush River.
Along the journey, Lukas' exhaustion only grew. To the point where he began to limp in his stride and his breathing became uneven and shallow.
Skyla worried for him but knew she couldn't stop much more. Eventually, she rashly decided to carry Lukas the rest of the distance to the Fortissimo outpost. Lukas didn't even have the air to thank her.
As Skyla carried Lukas, at some point, he passed out from exhaustion. Awakening the next day in an unknown room.
When he woke up, he first felt his body. He could barely feel his legs like they were replaced by bags of sand. His chest struggled to rise and fall, and his eyes nearly refused to open. But he forced them to open.
Looking around the room, it seemed to be a medical ward. Though he hadn't seen the ward in Mystic Camp, Lukas assumed that there must be a similar facility there too. Across from him Skyla and another Fortissimo member speaking.
The other person appeared to not belong to a subdivision, nor were they a special asset. Rather, they were a medic, a nurse stationed in this Fortissimo outpost.
Lukas moved to sit up but it took him a great amount of effort. Then, Skyla turned to him, and a wave of relief washed over her face at the sight of Lukas awake.
"You're awake, are you okay?"
Lukas tried to move his legs, but every movement shot a slow spreading pain through his legs.
"I can barely move my legs."
Skyla smiled, her warmth lessening Lukas' pain, if only a little.
"Don't worry, the river gets wider from here so we can use a boat to travel downstream."
Lukas simply laid back down and let his body relax for once. The pain from last night was intense, but he didn't think it was that bad. Or maybe it was the combined pain and stress from the last few days. Either way, one thing stood out to Lukas about last night... he passed out from exhaustion. The fact he passed out was a clear sign he needed to improve.
But... what could he do? He just started and has barely fought a single ghast. He wasn't sure what to do. He had spent a year and a half training with Bene and thought he needed experience. But he had only encountered one ghast, yet everything except killing the ghast proved difficult.
He looked up at Skyla.
"When will we be leaving?"
She smiled back, its warmth, however, was distant.
"I will be leaving later today, you are free to join me. Or, you can recover here and join me a few days later. I will tell you when I am about to leave."
Her fast-speaking cheerful tone was back at least. However, the words she spoke and the way she said didn't feel like Skyla. Maybe she was worried or stressed. At least listening to someone so cheerful, like Skyla, helped ease his pain, at least a little.
'Maybe that's where Oak got it from.'
Soon, Skyla left. The nurse gave Lukas some crutches to help him walk until his legs were better. But, that was all, and now Lukas was alone. This time he didn't feel helpless, just... dejected. He wished things could have turned out differently.
He looked around the room, next to his bed was a small notebook and a pen. Lukas grabbed them and started sketching to pass the time.
He was no artist, but he had a decent amount of skill. The one thing he was good at, was sketching people's faces. Sometimes, on cold or rainy nights, he would draw a small sketch of his family. This time, he was doing it for a different reason.
He wanted to remember his family, he didn't want to forget them. He didn't want to forget their warm smiles, the joy in their eyes, the way they styled their hair. He wanted to remember them.
If he could do that... maybe things aren't too bad.