It was nothing short of sheer luck that he had managed to make it so far, in this state. He didn't even know how he had managed to stand, let alone walk. How long had he slept on that beach? It had felt like days, yet still when his eyes creaked open, he could feel that exhaustion to his very core. The only reason he knew it had to have been days of him slumbering on the shore was because of the debris that had washed up along side him that hadn't been present when he had shut his eyes for what he had assumed would be the last time. Sand had curled around his body as if to bury him where there was no one else to do so, and given a few more days it might have succeeded.
Every last thing ached. A bone deep weariness that could not be shaken no matter what he tried. He shuffled like an akashic down dirt paths and through the wilds, until he had collapsed yet again outside of Dalimil. It was a blur. All of it. How he had been untouched by the roaming monsters was a mystery, how he had made it thus far without food, yet another. A few kind souls took it upon themselves to give him shelter for a few days, give him food that he could barely eat, but all too soon Clive was shuffling through the desert with naught but a flicker of life in his breast. How he had passed through the town without Lubor's notice was beyond him, perhaps the man was simply too busy with the restoration efforts, aiding those who were more than just shuffling corpses, but Clive didn't have it in him to question it.
The blight offered little reprieve either, finding himself waking in a face-full of ash and dust sporadically, having simply fallen over mid-stride. Luck. It was nothing but luck that saw him through the wasteland without tumbling from a cliff, that saw him to the familiar dock on the edge of the Bennumere. He couldn't make out the figure that stood beside the boat there, who turned to face him, but he made a stab at a guess. "O-Obolus...?"
And then he collapsed again, right there on the dock.
The old man just stared for a moment, watching Clive collapse with a thud that seemed more appropriate for a corpse than the man he knew as Cid, surprise coating his face. "Well I'll be damned." Came the muted response of surprise, before a grunt left his lips, making his way over to the fallen man and grabbing him by the shoulders, dragging him slowly to the boat before unceremoniously tipping him in. "Heavy bastard you are." Despite the gruff words, Obolus was just barely smiling. The Hideaway had been dour in the weeks following the fall of Origin, though had remained busy. There was so much to do, no one had the time to mourn.
There would still be mourning to do, only one of the three that had flown towards that floating rock had returned, and this one seemed to be hovering the edge of death, but one was better than none. "You'll pay for the ride later, Cid." Obolus spoke to himself, setting to work with the paddle, needing to get away from the docks before he could set the sail.
