The moon hung above us in the sky, casting a silvery glow over our drenched and shivering bodies, the cold wind nipping at our skin. With each passing moment, my muscles quivered and my skin grew colder, the threat of hypothermia lurking like a shadow, hinting at the specter of death.
As we trudged onward, the distant town of Wigton seemed elusive, its whereabouts shrouded in uncertainty. It felt as though we had been walking for an eternity, each step a painful reminder of our journey's toll on our weary feet.
Though the weight of sadness had lifted from our minds, replaced by a grim determination to survive, the physical wound on my head served as a stark reminder of the peril we had narrowly escaped. Yet, amidst our physical and mental exhaustion, thoughts of our survival in this desolate landscape consumed me.
I glanced at Rachel, her face etched with exhaustion as she dragged her feet through the dirt. The strain of our arduous trek weighed heavily on our slender frames, exacerbated by the absence of sustenance and hydration.
Turning to Rachel, I spoke softly, my voice barely audible over the howling wind, "Rachel, do you have any idea how much farther we have to go to reach Wigton?"
She paused, her breaths coming in ragged gasps, before responding, "I'm not certain. It's probably about a two-hour ride by horseback..."
"That seems like quite a distance," I murmured, the reality of our situation sinking in with each passing moment.
In my prime, a walk like this would have been a piece of cake. But with Helen's petite, drenched form beside me, it's turned into a nightmare. My feet ache, my shoes are waterlogged, and I'm starting to suffer from trench foot. I can only imagine how much worse it must be for Rachel, trudging along in soaked socks. If only I could lay my hands on a sturdy pair of military-issue leather boots, it would make all the difference.
A flickering fire would be a godsend, offering warmth to thaw our chilled bodies after the soaking we've endured. I yearn for its comforting heat, dreaming of the chance to dry off and change into dry clothes. Yet, all I have are the damp garments clinging to my skin.
Suddenly, a glimmer catches my eye to the right. A beam of light appears on the horizon, its source obscured by the darkness. I can't discern who or what it might be, but my instincts warn me that they're unlikely to be friendly. Without hesitation, I break into a run, fearing they might spot my distinctive white hair amidst the gloom.
Grabbing Rachel's hand, I tug her along as we flee from the approaching light. Despite her exhaustion, she struggles to keep pace, her breaths ragged and labored. Her feet falter beneath her, but I refuse to relent, determined to put as much distance between us and the mysterious glow.
"Why are we running, Helen?" Rachel gasps desperately, her hand clammy and cold in mine as I urge her forward.
"Those are Aldurian military. We have to get away!" I shout urgently over my shoulder, the fear and urgency evident in my voice. Rachel's weight pulls on my arm, and I can feel her resolve weakening. But I refuse to let her falter, not now, not like this. With every ounce of strength, I pull her along, determined to keep us both safe from the approaching enemy.
The prospect of capture fills me with dread. Having already taken the lives of more than a dozen of their comrades, I can only imagine the horrors that await me if I fall into their hands. As a woman, I know the grim realities of captivity all too well—the specter of gang rape looms ominously, a fate too horrific to contemplate.
With only two bullets left, suicide seems like my only recourse. I can't bear the thought of watching my older sister endure the same fate, nor can I bring myself to end her life. The prospect of losing my hands is a chilling alternative to the unimaginable suffering that could await us. I cannot face such a fate, and so I must act before they have the chance to capture us.
“Helen, Helen, please stop. I can’t keep going,” Rachel pleads, her voice strained.
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“Rachel, we have to keep moving,” I insist, tugging at her increasingly heavy frame. Her steps grow sluggish, as if her feet are resisting my efforts to pull her along. She feels like dead weight, but I have no choice but to press on, knowing the consequences if we're caught.
The soldiers likely haven't spotted us yet, but if they do, I know they won't hesitate to open fire, or worse. With each passing moment, the danger grows, urging us to push forward with all the strength we can muster.
My already sore feet protest with each step, and my heart races faster as I drag Rachel's limp body along. She collapses to the ground, and I quickly lift her up, looping her arm around my shoulder to support her weight as we continue our desperate escape.
Bringing my sister along was always going to be challenging, but I hadn't anticipated it would be this draining. Why is she weaker than me? Is it because of my angelic nature, a trait I've questioned countless times? It's the only explanation that seems to make sense in this dire situation.
"Please, Helen, I can't go on," Rachel whispers, her breathing becoming erratic. Could it be a minor heart attack from exhaustion? I can't be sure, but I can't afford to stop and find out.
"Rachel, you have to stay strong, or we're both done for," I urge, my own resolve wavering as I resist the urge to unleash a barrage of gunfire at our pursuers. But I know that would only hasten our capture, sealing our fate.
Rachel pants, her eyes closing as she succumbs to unconsciousness, her body becoming dead weight in my arms. With no other option, I hoist her onto my shoulder using the fireman carry technique, adjusting my pace to a slow jog to conserve energy while keeping her securely in place.
The strain on my back is unbearable, the weight of Rachel and her belongings threatening to crush me. I can't help but regret bringing her along, even as I push through the pain. Her missing MH rifle is a minor concern now, dwarfed by the monumental task of carrying her and her pack. But I press on, driven by the desperate need to keep us both alive.
"This is ridiculous," I mutter under my breath, stealing a glance back at the approaching soldiers. Their lights grow brighter, but they still haven't spotted us. It's not enough to halt my determined stride away from the main road.
Struggling to maintain my course southward, I realize exhaustion is winning the battle. It might be wiser to seek refuge in the nearby boreal forest and rest. It'll be harder for the soldiers to track us, and easier for me to conceal our presence. Rachel may protest, but I'm running out of options.
My gaze shifts to the looming shadows of the forest to my right. I pick up the pace, entering the cover of trees where the moonlight struggles to penetrate. It's a welcome relief from the open grassland, even if it means navigating in semi-darkness.
As my fatigue intensifies, I slow to a walk, sparing my back from the strain of Rachel's weight. I can't help but wonder how this forest would look in daylight, a thought that offers a brief respite from the tension of our situation.
My goal is simple: keep moving until I find a suitable spot to rest and formulate our next move. Getting to Wigton while evading capture is proving far more challenging than I anticipated, especially with Rachel's condition weighing me down. My back throbs with each step, prompting me to ponder just how heavy Rachel really is.
I press on, refusing to abandon my sister. She's still my responsibility, and leaving her now would condemn her to a fate I can't bear to contemplate. The quest ahead is clear—I must train Rachel, at the very least to handle a rifle when the need arises.
Finally finding a clearing, I carefully lay my sister beside a sturdy tree. Placing my fingers against her neck, I feel the faint but steady beat of her heart. But what is her condition? Are there any underlying issues I should be worried about? Perhaps it's time to explore some of the new features in my menu for guidance.
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Helen
Race: Angelic Wolf-kin
Level: 5
HP: 75%
MP: 95%
Class: [Materialmancer]
Skill: [Material Manipulation I][Alloying]
General Health Status: [Minor Head Wound] [Pain] [Exhaustion] [Breathing Disorder]
[Quest {4}] [Companion Analyzer]
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I press [Companion Analyzer].
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[Companion Lists]
[Rachel]
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I press my sister’s name. Her status menu appears right on top of my status window.
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[Rachel]
Race: Wolf-kin
Level: 6
HP: 40%
MP: 85%
Class: [Apothecary]
Perk: [Paralyzed By Fear]
Skill: [Chemical Manipulation I] [Flame Lance I]
General Health Status: [Unconscious] [Major Pain] [Exhaustion] [Respiratory Distress] [Hypothermia]
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I should build a fire soon before my sister dies out of this condition. Let’s see, I need wood, mainly. I should also dry my sister's clothing using a campfire. Well, this will be a very long night for me, won’t it?