Although he didn't want to, he found himself leaning on Keira as she sought to brace him. His reliance on others now disgusted him. He felt he was a failure and the potentially millions of souls lost in their previous home were a reminder of it. Icarus had survived encounters with mortals, demons, and gods alike only to fail when he was needed most, to the detriment of all. Only he could kill Obelisk or at the very minimum, banish it from the realm.
Now, he was no more than an infant within the body of a man. The slightest exertion threatened to cripple him for hours on end, but he would persevere. It was all he had. The will to force himself on when he couldn't. It was a trait few others possessed and while the mental state of failure and fear of death haunted others, it was his fear of surviving with his shame that plagued him.
No one could be saved when it came to his efforts. All he could manage was to slow the progression of a violent death, to say to the angel of death that it was not someone's time, only to lose them later by similar means. Rygar, Sahmbo, Hellmarx, Lucia, even Riva and Zanir had all died horrible deaths he hadn't been strong enough to prevent. Rygar died for him, Sahmbo had his soul torn from his body, Hellmarx died guarding Icarus' son Uriel, Lucia committed suicide after his first death, Riva died defending Peaceguard, and Zanir, the strongest man of Nataki, had died slaying one of the three Devil Gods, banishing it back to Hell for millenia.
If he was not forbidden to die, he would have ended his pain long ago. He knew, however, none of them would smile when they saw him on the other side when they learned of his selfish act. Others would suffer, too, Keira among them, perhaps even chief among them. He remained quiet as she explained her devotion to him. He could appreciate it, but could not reciprocate it because he would inevitably fail and he would be left alone once more.
It was selfish of him, but if denying her his open affection could keep her alive, he would do so. It was the burden the hero had to bear. At least, that was what he told himself in his journal long ago. She deserved better, although he would always remain to guard her by some means or another. The seal on her wrist was one for comfort and one that could save her once when the time came and she was faced with an inescapable fate. She didn't realize that it was far more than a simple recall spell.
The part of the magic that took the most out of him was that it was reusable as often as she wished, the magic only fading when one or another died. He wanted her to understand, however, that it was a marking that held great value and should be of the utmost importance to be used only when in mortal danger. As his magic recovered over time, hopefully, he would add more to it, effectively creating an elaborate tattoo with various wards and protection magics about it. Whether he would return to full strength, however, remained to be seen. The fact Icarus managed to perform this feat was a miracle in and of itself.
The hay was uncomfortable if his intention had been to sleep. Fortunately, though, he had more than enough sleep and more than anything, he required meditation to center himself and focus his body's functions toward recovery. Doing the math, he estimated he should be capable of moving on his own by the next day and performing labor within three. After that, it was only a matter of acquiring the money to purchase the supplies he required to set off on his own.
"I'll be fine, just going to take some time. Don't worry, I won't go dying on you, tried twice so far and I've no intention for a third suicide mission," he said, closing his eyes and steadying his breathing to begin meditating as his master taught him.
