“On three, then?” The old man asked. Kaedan nodded in return.
“One, two, thre-“ The man grunted in pain as his frail arms gave out. The cart they were trying to lift came down again, but Kaedan was able to hold it back from collapsing on its side completely.
“Are you alright?” Kaedan asked. He was still holding up the cart, preventing it from crushing the old man underneath it. The man gasped for breath and crawled out from beneath.
“Yes… yes, I am.” He replied. With the man out from underneath, Kaedan slowly eased the cart down.
Sweat was beginning to build up on both of them. Kaedan wiped his forehead and looked at the tipped over cart that he had failed to turn upright. Even with most of the cargo removed, they still couldn’t tip it back together. “Shame…” He muttered under his breath. The old man’s grandson and granddaughter were sitting on a patch of grass nearby. Both of them were motionless, oddly quiet for ones their age. The warm winds of the afternoon were dying down to give way to cooler ones, and sundown was on its way.
“Where are you headed?” Kaedan asked.
“Zerul.” The old man answered as he sat down on the grass. He looked out of breath. “It’s the only place we can go now.”
Kaedan raised an eyebrow at that.
“You don’t have a homeland?”
“Have you not heard?” The old man asked. He took a deep sigh, but once he saw that Kaedan was still confused, decided to give an explanation. “An ungodly beast prowls our Nemhim City. It is the homeland of nay but death, now.”
It all came together. The worried look on the man’s face, the children acting cold and distant, the cart filled with food and supplies, piled together haphazardly as if by last minute. The horse that had been pulling the cart had recently tripped and broken its leg, and had caused the cart to tumble down. No one else was hurt, but now the steed was down on its side, breathing heavily as its chest went up and down. There was blood seeping from its leg, and flies had already begun to get drawn in. The crash must have happened over half a day ago.
Kaedan had been moving on foot for the past two months, and had wandered into this wreckage earlier today. He still had all of his armour on, but his tower shield was laid bare on the grass. He picked it up and strapped it onto his back.
“You shouldn’t stay here.” Kaedan said. “Which supplies can you make do without? I can carry what you need.”
The old man was hesitant at first, but he accepted Kaedan’s offer and sorted out three potato sacks filled to the brim with various assortments of food. Kaedan carried two on his shoulder, and one underneath his other arm, while the man carried some clothes and water. Along with the two grandchildren, the four of them continued towards Zerul on foot.