Thiriel didn't remember the exact moment the road began to blur.
He knew he had mounted the horse.
He knew he had kept his body upright, gritting his teeth, forcing every muscle to respond even when the Magic Warrior Aura had completely dissipated.
Every step of the horse was a hammer blow straight to his insides, but he didn't allow himself to fall.
Not yet.
In front of him, the lights of Oakhaven began to appear through the night mist. Lit torches and stone walls. That sight was the only thing that held him up for the last few minutes.
When the horse stopped in front of the gates, Thiriel slowly let go of the reins.
"Cae…" he murmured, with a raspy voice. "We're here."
Caethiriel turned her head immediately. She had spent the entire journey watching him out of the corner of her eye, her heart clenched with worry.
"Brother, you're pale."
Thiriel forced a smile that didn't reach his eyes.
"Listen to me," he said, breathing with difficulty. "Go into the city. Find an inn for both of us."
He reached into his spatial bag and took out many coins, placing them carefully in her hand.
"Pay whatever is necessary," he continued. "Find someone who knows about healing."
Caethiriel was more worried listening to what her brother was telling her, having an ominous premonition.
"Brother, let's go quickly to find someone to help heal you," she said, crying. "I don't want to lose you, you are the only thing I have left in this world."
"Cae," he interrupted her gently. "Trust me… nothing bad will happen to me."
She pressed her lips together, eyes moist, but nodded.
Thiriel took a step forward.
And the world went dark.
His body collapsed without warning, falling to his knees and then onto his side against the stone ground with a dry thud.
"BROTHER!" screamed Caethiriel, dropping the coins and running toward him.
The Oakhaven guards, alerted by the noise and screams, approached immediately.
"What is happening here?" asked one, partially unsheathing his sword.
"Please!" begged Caethiriel, kneeling beside Thiriel. "My brother fainted! He is gravely injured! Help us!"
The guards exchanged quick glances. It wasn't rare to see adventurers or travelers arrive in bad condition, but the young man's state looked serious.
"He's still breathing," said one, placing two fingers on Thiriel's neck. "He is alive but very weak."
"He needs a healer," added the other, seeing the body full of bruises.
Caethiriel nodded in desperation.
"I will pay you," she said, taking out the coins with trembling hands. "Please, help me take him to an inn and find someone who can heal him."
Seeing the coins accelerated the guards' decision.
"Fine," replied the guard. "I know a place nearby. Follow us."
Between the two of them, they lifted Thiriel carefully.
His body was rigid, hot, and every movement tore a faint unconscious moan from his lips.
Caethiriel walked beside him, wiping away tears with the back of her hand.
Soon they arrived at the inn. Upon entering, the innkeeper widened his eyes in surprise seeing the boy's state.
"A room," said one of the guards. "Now."
There were no questions.
They placed Thiriel on the bed, still unconscious. Caethiriel thanked the guards between sobs and paid them as promised. As soon as they left, she turned to the innkeeper.
"Is there a healer in the city?" she asked. "Please, my brother…"
"Yes," the man replied. "The head healer's daughter lives a few streets away. Arielle. She is very good and capable."
"Please!" said Caethiriel. "Tell her to come, I will pay her whatever it costs."
"They will go for her immediately."
Caethiriel was left alone in the room.
She sat on the edge of the bed and took her brother's hand. It was hot, trembling. His breathing was irregular, shallow.
"Hold on," she whispered, with a broken voice. "We are safe now… please, hold on…"
The passing of time felt like silent torture.
Finally, the door opened.
A young woman with light hair and a focused expression entered with a leather bag hanging from her shoulder. She wore simple but clean clothes, and her eyes fixed immediately on Thiriel.
"Is he the injured one?" she asked.
"Yes," Caethiriel replied, standing up immediately. "He is my brother. Please, help him."
The young woman nodded and placed the bag on the table.
"I am Arielle," she said. "Give me space so I can treat him."
She approached the bed and began to examine him with expert hands. First the pulse. Then the breathing. Afterwards, with great care, she removed part of his upper clothing to check the torso.
What she saw made her pause.
Arielle blinked.
Her face tinged with a slight blush without her being able to help it.
Thiriel's body was… sculpted.
It wasn't the exaggerated physique of a veteran warrior, but every muscle was defined, taut, clearly trained for years.
Even unconscious, his body structure showed constant effort.
"Your brother," she murmured. "Is very well trained."
Caethiriel barely noticed.
"Is it very bad?" she asked anxiously.
Arielle swallowed hard and forced herself to concentrate.
She continued checking.
And then she truly saw it.
Bruises.
Many.
On arms, chest, abdomen, legs. Some already dark, others reddish and inflamed. The skin was swollen in several areas, and upon pressing carefully, irregular lumps could be felt, clear signs of extreme muscle tears.
"This is serious," she whispered, now frowning.
She checked more thoroughly.
"He has micro-tears all over his body," she explained. "Muscles forced beyond their natural limit. Some fibers are literally broken. There is also slight internal damage."
Caethiriel paled.
"Can... can he die...?"
Arielle pressed her lips together.
"Not immediately," she replied honestly. "But he is in a very dangerous state. If he hadn't trained his body as he has, he would already be dead."
The young woman took a deep breath.
"I am going to do everything in my power," she said with determination. "But he will need absolute rest and constant treatment."
She opened her bag and began preparing ointments, bandages, and small support crystals. Her hands moved quickly.
"This is going to hurt when he wakes up," she added. "A lot."
Caethiriel nodded, tears falling freely.
Arielle began the treatment.
And while the healer worked, Thiriel remained unconscious, his shattered body finally paying the price for having given everything.
But he was alive.
And for now that was enough.