Weakness
Our journey was drawing to a close. After leaving Mühn, it was clear that duty called to both of us. My citizens were waiting for me, and the people of Koperdam were eager for their leader’s return. So, we headed north. Percival had insisted on escorting me back to Kedet, despite my protests, even though we hadn't spoken of what had happened near the portal.
… Perhaps he was right.
Despite my best efforts, my legs kept tangling beneath me, and my balance grew precarious; I could barely stay on my feet. We simply had to reach the coast. Once there, the wind would carry us out onto the waves. But with every additional step, I felt the strain becoming too much. We had to stop more and more often. The pain intensified. I had grown accustomed to walking unveiled beside Percival, but seeing the worry in his expression, I decided to wear my crown once more.
It was all merely a facade.
Barely a few kilometers later, my body gave out completely, and I collapsed to the ground. He was right. I needed to rest. Lying at the foot of a tree, I watched Percival hastily set up camp, unable to offer even the slightest assistance.
….
The moment she collapsed, I was beside her.
“Semet.”
I helped her sit against the tree, checking her breathing and making sure she hadn't injured herself in the fall. She insisted that she was fine, merely tired, but I wasn't convinced. She could barely remain standing, and there was little point in pretending otherwise.
“Rest. We’ll continue when you’re able.”
I finished setting up camp before returning to her. I brought her water and something to eat, making sure she had what she needed before settling nearby. Whenever she tried to assure me that she could manage, I simply reminded her that she had already fallen once.
The first day passed quietly, then another. I kept the fire going, prepared our meals, and watched over her while she slept. Whenever she woke, I was usually nearby, working on my maps or repairing equipment. I tried to keep myself occupied, though my attention would often drift back toward her.
I had grown accustomed to her presence during our journey. Now, seeing her so weak made the thought of leaving her alone feel strangely uncomfortable.
One evening, I was preparing to leave the camp to gather more wood when her voice stopped me.
“Could you... stay for a while?”
I looked back at her.
“Of course.”
I set what I was carrying aside and sat beside her beneath the tree. For a while, neither of us said anything. Eventually, we began talking about small things, nothing concerning our journey or our duties. It was simply conversation to fill the silence.
I found myself enjoying those quiet moments more than I expected.
As the days passed, she slowly regained her strength. I continued to stay near her whenever I could. There were maps to finish and preparations to make for our eventual return, but they could wait.
I never really thought about why I was so reluctant to leave her side.
For now, it was enough that she was getting better.