"How long have you been a healer?"
Bastion's gaze followed the female as she paced in front of them, her shoulders hunched and fur bristled, second head swinging between her forepaws. She didn't look at him as she spoke, her words spewing from her mouth in rough growls, but rather left the watching to her second head.
"Seventeen-years, warrior,� replied Bastion, shifting stiffly and casting his gaze at the tapestries lining the walls of the tent.
The camp had not been a large one, the rows of tents stretched five by five into a perfect cube shape. There was a make-shift armory near the center, along with a healer's tent where Bastion-Icthius had been herded into once the army had settled itself into their respective places, to lick their wounds and prepare for the next morning's advance. The tent itself wasn't very large, but it was more heavily decorated than many of the others, with rugs lining the floors and a small space cleared for a fire. A young Watarus had been crouched over the place when Bastion-Icthius and the lead warrior had entered, crouched over the pit and working his hands over the wood. Bastion watched him struggle with his magic before finally managing to call a spark of flame to his fingertips. The ember shot to the wood, lighting in slowly.
The little male rose to his feet, bowing to the female as he slunk out the tent.
Icthius stirred in his pouch, urging himself a way from the fire,� Lord�s sake!" he hissed,� It�s already boiling, who in lord's name starts a fire when it's already too hot."
Bastion winced.
The female stopped pacing long enough to shoot Bastion-Icthius a glare, curling her lips in warning,� Keep him quiet!"
Bastion dipped his head,� My apologies, warrior, Icthius is-."
"I don't need to hear your excuses."
Icthius let out a little snort and sank back into the pouch.
The female recommenced her pacing,� Have you ever been late in aiding an army before, in your seventeen years of healing?"
Bastion could feel Icthius' desire to retort, to prove himself more intelligent than this angry brute before them. He willed him silent and dipped his head,� Yes, warrior, but only when I'm forced to face difficult obstacles while attempting to reach my destination."
"Yes,� the female hissed, digging her claws into the rugs,� I thought as much." She paused again, sitting back on her haunches and towering over Bastion-Icthius,"Tell me, healer, why would the King send his army such an incompetent healer?"
"Incompetent!" Icthius' voice rang out from the pouch. He manage to wriggle his way into view,� See what I mean, Bastion? No recognization at all, no gratitude, no courtesy from those we- you are helping. Absolutely nothing! I don't know why you do it."
The female leapt off her spot and shoved Bastion-Icthius to the floor, one armored paw digging into Bastion's neck, the other reaching around to extract Icthius from his pouch. Her fingers curled around his muzzle and she leaned inward, snarling,� You�d serve you're body better if you kept your mouth shut, healer." She tossed Icthius back against the rungs and jerked away.
The pain bloomed between Bastion-Icthius, a quick, blunt flash, which came and went quickly. Bastion steeled himself for Icthius' growls.
The female stood and loped toward the door, craning her neck to shoot Bastion-Icthius a sharp look,� I�m Raeraes-Leninye, I'll send you our sick, but when you're finished I want you gone. If you're good for anything, convince our king to send a real healer." With that, she left, flicking the tips of her tail in annoyance.
Bastion let out a long sigh and picked himself off the rugs, trotting toward Icthius and grasping him between his paws. With mild difficulty he managed to set him back inside his pouch,"Icthius..."
"Don't you dare, Bastion! She's treating us like incompetent whelps, I had every right to be angry with her."
"We were late, Icthius, she has her warriors to worry about. Our tardiness costs lives."
"Better theirs than ours,"Icthius wrinkled his nose, sneering,� Isn�t it my turn to have the body, yet?"
"One more week, Icthius." Thank-god for that. Bastion didn't know what he'd do if Icthius was in charge of the body now. Worse things would have happened than a dismissal and a reprimand, that he did not doubt.
"It's just not fair, Bastion,"Icthius sighed,� I don't see why we should have to share anything."
Bodies, abilities, time. Icthius could be talking about anything. Bastion suspected it was everything.
The flaps of the tent were pulled back to reveal a mangy group of watari warriors. Bastion rose to his feet and ushered them in with a nod. He willed Icthius to keep quiet, slinging his pouch up and over his neck and sliding him toward one end of the tent where he could watch. Bastion flexed his toes and approached the first patient, forcing a smile to curl his leathery lips. He flicked his ears back, blocking out Icthius' complaints.
He had work to do.
.:.:.::.:.:.
A swath lacy green-black light bubbled from his palms, encompassing his forepaws and spreading slowly across his forearms and fingertips, slowly creeping up his arms as little tendrils of blackness. He grasped the little red-brown amulet between his fingers and pressed his hands to the other's chest. They let out a gasp and shuddered, collapsing against the rugs between his weakened paws. Bastion pulled back his hands, taking with him the black-green tendrils, slick now with a pus-like white. He pressed the amulet between his palms and clenched his fists tightly around it. Clenching his teeth he let out a hiss of air and dropped the object.
The other slowly rose to his feet and shook himself off. With a grin and a flick of his tails he dipped his head to Bastion,� Thanks."
"My pleasure,� replied Bastion, returning the nod.
The last of his patients loped out the door, free of limps, ailments, and broken bones, leaving Bastion-Icthius alone once again. Bastion padded toward where Icthius was propped up against the side of the tent and swung his pouch gently over his neck, securing it in front and rolling his shoulders until it fell into place against his dorsal fin.
"It's time to go, Icthius."
"Oh lord,"Icthius rolled his eyes,� You aren't actually leaving, are you? We haven't eaten, Bastion, we're hungry, and smelly, and tired, and I want a bloody bath."
Bastion paused, flicking his ears back,� Perhaps...we may be able to manage a bath and a bite to eat."
"May?" Icthius snorted, curling his lip,� We�re not going anywhere until we do."
Bastion felt the invasion of Icthius' influence wriggle into his mind, blanketing his free-will. Bastion very rarely noticed it when it was happening, but it didn't make him any more able to resist it. Finally, he gave a little nod and sighed. "Very well, Icthius,"he strode out of the tent,� But if we run into Raeraes-Leninye I shall blame anything that happens to us on you."
Icthius would have shrugged if he could,� We�re having a bath."
The sky had darkened to a dusty lavender, bathing the little hillside in the coolness of dusk. Fires had sprung up throughout the camp, most of them simply a warm silhouette against the canvas of the tents. Bastion made his way toward the center of the camp, where a single fire was lit between the healer's tent and the armory. Between them was also a guillotine.
Bastion paused in front of it at Icthius' insistence, watching as one of the warriors made their way toward it and placed his head against the nook. His second head was in one hand, the guillotine's chain in the other. He have a quick, hard tug and the blade swooped toward his neck with a shlunk, severing his head neatly. Quickly the second head was shoved in place. Bastion watched the fibers of skin and flesh weave together, holding the new head in place. The warrior backed out of the guillotine, gave himself a quick shake, and plucked his first head from the basket, setting it in a chain mail pouch around his neck.
"One more week, Icthius."
Icthius stirred, frowning and sending a shiver of discontentment between their empathic bond. Bastion flicked his ears back and continued further into the camp.
He managed to find a little cache of food outside a tent and allowed himself a few strips of meat, eating hurriedly with his ears perked and legs tensed. Icthius kept his eyes open, scanning the oncoming darkness for anyone who might object to their quick meal. After downing his fill Bastion continued his search for anything that might service them as a bath. There did not appear to be anything within the camp, and he could remember having seen any ponds or rivers outside of it.
They would just have to do without until they reached the city.
Bastion hoped it would rain.
"I can't believe this,"Icthius growl,� We spend all this time getting here and what do they ask of us? Heal our sick and piss off,� he wrinkled his nose, flicking his ears back,� And this isn't the first time it's happened either, Bastion. I don't see why you insist on continuing with this horrid little profession."
Bastion-Icthius shivered. It was getting cold.
"And now we have to suffer through various periods of freezing and boiling to death. Bastion,"the word came out a whine,� I insist they we begin a new occupation."
Bastion frowned. Bastion-Icthius was a healer, had always been a healer. Training took many years and, quite often, a high rank. One had to pay a pretty price to have one's class changed if they were so close to the very bottom of the ladder as they were.
"Such as what, Icthius?"
And besides, despite the misgivings and the lack of recognition (and, on occasion, gratitude, Bastion would not fool himself to thinking that his efforts were always appreciated), Bastion enjoyed being a healer. The title, if nothing else, was a favorable one. Icthius should have been able to understand that.
"I want to be a king, Bastion,"Icthius' voice had gone wistful,� Or a prince, or a lord, or something equally respectable. Not a healer."
"Icthius, as much as I would enjoy being a respected leader, we would need a much larger dorsal fin in order to achieve that."
"Imagine the fame, the prestige, the recognization. We'd go down in history, Bastion. We'd be in books."
Bastion realized Icthius was no longer listening to him. He shut his mouth and dipped his head, leaving him to his daydreams.
His feet ached and his muscles burned, but he forced himself up over the ridge of the hill and into the open, grassy meadow. Even his magic wouldn't be able to keep his aches and pains muted enough to carry on for much longer. It was too taxing to use it. Bastion dragged himself along, tired and breathing hard. He needed sleep. Icthius' complaints weren't even needed to make him realize this. He was a healer, after all, he could recognize all the size of extreme fatigue.
"Perhaps we should rest for the nice, Icthius."
Icthius rolled his eyes,"Oh, really, Bastion? Whyever would we do that? Of course we should - Bastion!"
Bastion jerked his head around at Icthius' gasp. There was a flash of color and movement and he was pummeled to the ground for a second time that night. Icthius let out a worried speel of words, but Bastion couldn't understand them. He watched, wide-eyed and heart hammering, as a black paw appeared before his face, claws extended. It slammed into his face, jerking his head back.
"What-"
Bastion was silenced by a maw, teeth clamping around his muzzle, holding it shut.
From the darkness three more watari appeared, joining his attacker�s side. They were warriors, large and muscular, but undecorated like those under command of the female. Bastion caught a flash of color amongst the muted tones. Bright red marks were painted between their eyes, a loop marred by a jagged cross. The mark of the old king. Of the royal family.
"Traitors!" one of the rebels snarled at them.
The black watarus holding his maw raised his paw a second time and slashed it across his face.
Bastion's head snapped back against the dirt with a heavy 'thunk', deaf to Icthius frantic shrieks.
"Oh Lord, Bastion!"