Fatigued Revelation

The night had been restless for Tarmen, plagued with nightmares and waking throughout. The same damn boar…. worm…. Thing was always there, slithering through the depths as if taunting him to follow; calling him a coward with its jeering squeals. Voah still remained entangled, but now the others had joined in a horrid mockery of their true selves, lurching in all directions in silent agony.
He had yet to understand what it meant, but it left a knot in his gut as he looked to the rising sun. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to face first, his inner demons or another day of high tensions and whatever ‘surprises’ would greet them.
He didn’t have long to decide as they fled the band of Fang riders, barely escaping certain death once again.
What little recovery that had been gained with rest was undone in their ride, the thundering steps of his mount jarring bruised muscle and bone alike. There were several moments of residual hallucinations, a voice right behind him or what sounded like one of the group falling behind. He had to resist looking, knowing any lost speed could be his doom. Besides, not much a wounded Kru’ll like him could do against the horde of horsemen at their heels.
When he noticed the dimming sky, he wondered what these men wanted. If it was territory, they were putting a lot of effort into it to drive off five injured and exhausted travelers. These questions were interrupted by the imp, seemingly calling to the men in that ever familiar screech.
Mine
Mine!!
Tarmen could have laughed at a new freedom he suddenly felt towards the damned head, like finally breaking a fever that had consumed him for several months now. Throughout all of it, he had clung to the cursed thing like some haggard ring thief, clutching the very thing that drove him to madness. After everything that had happened, the Creed, the cave, and now this agonizing ride, he finally had enough.
Two things he had to do before he died now. Seal that cave and burn the imp.
This resolve didn’t help with the pain or his body’s growing desire for sleep, but it was an extra bit of peace for his mind. Speaking of his body though, he had been so lost in thought that he was starting to slip, both into sleep and off his horse. Gripping his horse's mane at the last moment, Tarmen was glad they weren’t in a forest or he might have smacked against a tree. It didn’t stop the grass from cutting into his arms and face, though the slicing pain gave him a boost of strength to pull himself back up.
He leaned close to his mount's neck after this, holding its mane in one hand and the reins in the other just in case he slid off again.

When at last they reached Aquilo, he couldn’t tell if they were still followed or if this was even real and not some sort of fatigue induced hallucination. His horse seemed to believe it was real and it had slowed enough that his injuries could finally rest, so he let it continue walking as he slouched in his saddle, unsure if he should try getting out of the saddle.
Trying to fight off passing out, he looked back from where they had ridden in from to see if they were still followed.