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Zelgius pulls off his helmet with languid hands, acutely aware of the way it has rumpled his sweaty hair into a rat’s nest over the last few days. Everything feels heavy, crushingly so. His armor, thankfully the lighter of his two sets, rests on his shoulders like stone, attempting to crush his arms with every movement. His sword is a lead weight at his side, threatening to topple him at any moment. Even his skin feels like it’s being dragged down to the ground.
He sighs, resisting the urge to close his eyes there where he stands. No… sleep would come soon… but he could not rest in armor…
“General?”
A voice, just outside his tent.
His eyes slide closed for just a moment, just long enough for him to sigh quietly, before he wrenches them open again, turning on his heel to lift the flap of his tent. Rest… so close… yet so far…
Levail is already saluting when Zelgius steps out. The younger man clicks his heels together, back perfectly straight as he stands at attention. His serious expression is carved into planes by the light of a nearby campfire; the sweat and grime of the day laid bare upon his skin.
“Lieutenant,” Zelgius starts as the man finishes his salute, folding his arms behind his back. “What… can I help you with?”
“I’ve come to collect your report, Sir,” he states matter-of-factly.
“Yes… of course… come in. I’ll find it… it’s in my bags somewhere…” Zelgius mumbles. The light from the fire is making his vision dissolve at the edges, coherent thoughts and words melting into fuzzy black static.
Levail follows him inside, standing at the opening- teetering on the edge of backing out into camp. He has a strange look on his face, but Zelgius resolves to not waste energy thinking about it. About that report…
It’s a fake document, expertly penned by Sephiran as a cover story. Zelgius needs a reason to disappear from camp for days at a time, after all…
“Uh… Sir?” Levail raises an eyebrow as Zelgius hands him the rolled piece of paper.
“...Yes?”
“This… doesn’t look like a report. This is…” Levail turns the paper over, reading the text aloud, “instructions on how to make vulneraries with... herbs from Daein?”
Zelgius snatches the paper back, tossing it back into his bag. Trying again, his hand finds a new piece of paper; one with a wax seal on the front. Yes- this was the document he was looking for…
“My apologies… I’m a little out of it… from traveling…”
Zelgius counts his lucky stars that Levail knows nothing of the side effects of extended warp powder use. Exhaustion like this does not come from merely marching across a river.
“Of course,” Levail nods, pocketing the report. “Let me get out of your hair then… I’m sure you want to rest before the battle tomorrow.” The man salutes again before turning on his heel and leaving the tent. Zelgius stands in silence, brain struggling to catch up to the man’s absence in its exhaustion.
“Rest…” he mumbles to the empty air, “Rest would be…”
He falls asleep in his armor, right there in the middle of the floor.