When he finally dragged himself over the edge, his arms gave out immediately after. He collapsed onto the ground, chest heaving, lungs pulling in air that felt too thin to satisfy him.
He lay there for a moment, staring at nothing.
Then a shadow fell over him, blocking out the sun.
Kael didn't bother looking up.
"…I made it," he said, voice flat, more accusation than statement.
The old man stood over him, silent for a moment.
Then he spoke.
"You're late."
Kael closed his eyes.
"…Of course I am."
"And you brought no food…"
He didn't even argue this time. He didn't have the energy. He barely reacted when he was dragged up and struck, his body absorbing the blows with a dull heaviness that felt distant, almost disconnected.
When it was over, he remained on the ground, breathing slowly.
"Again," the old man said.
Kael let out a weak laugh.
"You're not serious."
The old man did not respond.
