Back then, a whole log sled full of wood didn't trouble him. He could walk for hours with it trailing along behind him without noticing. But now he was sure that he wouldn't be able to pull a full one, especially not here, such a distance away from the worn-down trails.
He tested that half-full cart, not even sure if he could pull that. And indeed, as he sat behind the handle, he found it was a significant struggle to get it moving. With his one leg not able to push into the ground as hard as it should, breaking the inertia of the still cart required a considerable effort.
"Mm…" He paused, considering his situation. He'd promised Nila's family two and a half sleds full of wood. He'd already delivered one of those. He could deliver this half full one too, and that would be progress. But it felt a little wasteful to him.
At the very least, he thought he should at least fill it three-quarters full, and then do three-quarters again the next day, so that he could finish it off in just two trips.
That would be pushing his beaten body, Beam knew, but his impatience governed him strongly and even as his leg throbbed from merely standing, he briefly assured himself that it would be fine and proceeded to cut down some more trees, filling the cart three-quarters full.
And again, he sat behind the sled's handle, sucked in a deep breath and attempted to move it.
It didn't even budge. It seemed like it was glued to the ground.
Beam bit his lip in frustration. The soft soil of the forest didn't make it easy for dragging heavy loads. Once he got on the worn-down trail, he knew things would be easier. So, convincing himself of that, he ignored the pain shooting through his leg and put even more force into it.
"GAH!" He couldn't help making such a noise, even though he knew his efforts to be pathetic by normal standards, but that was the terrible state his body was in. It took all that might and focus merely to get it to budge slightly.
There was a battle raging in Beam's soul as he attempted these tasks, as he demanded struggle from himself. The more he pushed himself through the pain, the closer he got to who he truly was, the more the soul resonated with mind and body.
At times, he would even make contact with the essences Claudia and Ingolsol had left inside of him – but such contact was accompanied by such extreme revulsion that he would draw back and push forward in his usual way.
And from that first budge, it took another step, even faster than the last, to gradually build up some momentum and get it truly moving.
Three steps, and Beam was already drenched in sweat. And he had to go uphill now to find his way to the trail.
His feet sunk into the soft earth as he tried to make progress. He ended up putting so much more strength through his uninjured leg that it started to feel like that too would soon have something wrong with it.
Whilst still maintaining the momentum he needed to climb the hill, Beam desperately sought to make his march more sustainable, because with his injured leg in the state it was, it certainly would have no way of making it back to the village.
He tried shifting the position of his injured leg, seeing if he could work different muscles to lessen the pain. It worked, to a degree. If he was more on his toes, it hurt the wound to his quadriceps more. But if he sat back slightly and felt the tightness in his hamstrings, the pain lessened slightly.
It was difficult getting accustomed to the unfamiliar way of moving, but even the slightest lessening of the pain was of enormous benefit to him and he soon managed to get his way onto the beaten-down trail, where the ground was much more compact and less liable to sink.
He collapsed to the ground upon reaching it, his breath coming in ragged gasps and his leg throbbing. He lay on his back as he stretched the injured leg out in front of him, letting it relax so as to reduce the pain somewhat.
He saw that his scab had cracked once more and this time it was a thin trail of blood that leaked out, rather than that yellowish fluid that seemed to be part of the inflammation process. Beam guessed it was likely because the swelling had all but gone.
In his trousers with one leg cut off as he was, he realized that he'd have to make an effort to get his leg clean again before he delivered the wood, else he'd only be worrying Nila and her family.
Then, in a few days' time, once it stopped bleeding as often, he'd have to get a few new pairs of trousers from the marketplace to get him through winter.
Once his breath was recovered, he struggled back behind the handle of the sled and began the slow march back into town. It was certainly easier now, but it was far from easy. The constant throbbing pain required an endurance of the mind that was rare to come by, but still Beam pushed on, slowly but surely covering the long distance back towards the village.
What had taken him around an hour before now took him four hours. He'd left just after the sun had come up and now the sun was getting to past midday. Beam noted it as he left the forest, realizing that he'd have to be careful to make sure he got back before it got too dark.
He dragged his sled along the road from the forest, as people shot him glances, likely wondering why he was dressed so strangely, with half of one of his trousers' legs cut off. Then they'd see the wound on his leg and solve the riddle themselves before nodding and walking straight past him.