Solo Bygone

[Ismay]

The 7th of Fall, 518AV


Ismay walked around the Castle Commons with a hand in his pocket, clenched firmly around his coin purse. He wasn't keen on losing any money, being desperately in need of new stock for his medical kit. He'd used nearly all of he had during their trip here, "though I was too stupid to use them right," Ismay thought. The stray notion caused Issam to stir, his concern pulsing through their mind. "What was that, May? I wasn't paying attention," Issam mentally voiced. He'd been going through a list of what all they'd need and consequently ignoring Ismay's thoughts even as they became darker and darker.

Ismay said nothing and his mind remained utterly blank as he walked slowly through the crowd, using his large and unusual appearance to walk untouched. He had no trouble looking down at the stalls as not a single person was taller than him, but it mattered little as he wasn't even thinking about the things he saw.

It wasn't often that Ismay did this, emptying his mind to leave Issam in the dark. Sam found the act to enraging, evident by the pulsing anger that Ismay could feel from his soul, but Issam remained silent until his twin revealed what he had been thinking.

"Nothing. I am just not so eager to spend coin on items I may waste again," Ismay admitted, though Issam sighed. It obviously wasn't the first time they had revisited that tragic event, as Ismay had been far more tilted about it than Issam. "It wasn't your fault, brother," Sam urged, even as Ismay filled their thoughts with a hauntingly perfect recollection of the bygone time.....

Traveling wasn't something the Akontak did often. In fact, other than that situation, they'd never been outside of Mura before. They were always in the mind that living in such a beautiful place with such lovely citizens meant it'd be stupid to leave. Or, rather, that's what they used to think; they'd quickly changed their way of thought after it became overly obvious that many of those in his life weren't going to give them the freedom they so desperately wanted.

And as much as they hated the idea of being fettered to the expectations of others for their entire lives, they possibly hated the trials of migration even more. Their feet had screamed in pain, their back felt as if it had absorbed more than a few blows, and their shoulders were far from accustomed to carrying the backpack of items. As naturally athletic and hardy as the Akontak was, their body wasn't as prepared for travel as their company of companions had been.

So when they rested, Ismay always took full advantage of it, despite the fact that they'd run into another company of travellers. Word spread that they'd actually been leaving Sunberth, on their way to... Well, anywhere but there. If the Akontak had been paying attention, he would have heard how terrible the people said the city was and how horrible they themselves looked.

But he wasn't. No, at that time, Ismay had decided that removing their pack and shoes was the best course of action until people started moving again. The brothers were having a simple conversation about herbs as Ismay massaged his feet. It was far from an important discussion, just about the roadside plants that might provide medical benefits and which would just taste gross.

WC: 567

[Ismay]

"Ismay, we need to find somewhere that sells good herbs. Stop wallowing in something we can no longer change. It is over and past. You are being stupid." Wresting control from the depressing wreck that Ismay had quickly become, Issam mentally pushed May to the back. "Sit there while I finish what we came here to do," Issam said as he stretched and became reaccustomed to being in control.

It wasn't something he often did, but Ismay was prone to standing as still as a statue during his bouts of sadness. Issam walked around the stalls, keeping an eye for anything that resembled any plantlife he could remember. And while he did that, Ismay merely fell deeper down his hole, surprising Sam at how easily and quickly his twin soul could become as pitiful as those around them.

"Issam, we need items to suture. Cat-gut or silk and needles. Gauze, tourniquet....." Ismay said as he remembered the bloody, horrid wound in the boy's leg. He couldn't have been more than seven or eight, with big green eyes, shaggy brown hair, and a tear-streaked face. He had limped into the Akontak's peripheral and immediately quelled the discussion the twin souls had been having once they turned their eyes.

A dagger was embedded in his leg, above a shirt that obviously been placed in an failed attempt to stop the blood. He'd left a trail of blood behind the caravan he'd been in, revealing to the twins that the shirt was as ineffective as it looked.

"STOP WALKING," Ismay had shouted. He'd gotten to his feet and, with backpack in hand, rushed over. The boy had resisted when the Akontak tried to get him to lay back, obviously frightened, but was too weak to withstand the blue man's strength. Ismay used the pack for the boy's head after retrieving his medical kit. Issam was suspiciously silent.

"Why the petch was boy walking," Ismay said angrily in his broken common as the travelers moved to see what was happening. And despite asking the question, Ismay ignored the rushed answers and explanation, instead demanding a knife.

"Why are you torturing yourself by remembering this?" Issam asked Ismay as he walked around the market, his resting face mean enough to deter any interaction from the citizens of Sunberth. "You are not even thinking about what you could have done better. You are just relieving your failure for no reason at all."

Ismay grunted at that, a flash of anger racing through their minds. "MY failure?! It is only my failure because you refused to help me, coward!"

If Ismay was in control, Issam knew he would have shouted that aloud, as unable to control his emotions as he was. But it instead only gave them a headache, which served to make Issam more annoyed.

"I didn't help because I knew that neither of us knew enough to deal with such a grotesque wound. We both knew that. We both knew he was going to die. And I told you that."

WC: 505

[Ismay]

And he had, multiple times. The first being when they saw exactly what they were dealing with.

It had taken only seconds before one of his own companions gave him a knife, as they already knew that he was training to be a doctor. It had taken some convincing and a lot of shouting for them to convince those that weren't privy to Ismay's skill, but thankfully they were able to do it without disturbing the Akontak.

It had taken gentle movements and great care to cut away the trouser leg without jostling the knife, but as soon as it was finished, Ismay had paled. The dagger was incredibly jagged, serrated, and needed sharpening. The wound was wider then the blade, suggesting that it hadn't stayed still after it became embedded in his leg.

"I do not think we can repair that, Ismay....." Issam had voiced to his brother. But he knew that May was aware, as his mind had gone blank before exploding in wild thought and theories. None of which Issam responded to, merely growing quiet and withdrawing.

"I need another shirt, you didn't put this first tourniquet on correctly." As he waited for the garment of clothing, Ismay went into his kit and withdrew his small suturing bag and his toulja poultice. "Don't waste the supplies, May," Issam had urged, but was ignored as Ismay received the new shirt.

He raised the boy's leg to loop the shirt under and around, twice, before tying it firmly inches above the wound with a square knot to help stem the blood flow before he removed the knife, though the boy had already lost an alarming amount of his life's essence.

"I'm going to need people to hold him down while I remove the knife and begin suturing," he said as he pulled his water flask from his pack and poured it over his few instruments, his hands, and the wound. "I don't have anything to fully sterilize the wound but water is better than nothing," he muttered as he grabbed the handle of the blade.

He nodded once to the people now holding the boy down. Gauze was prepared at his side, his suturing kit was ready to his other side. "Ismay. Don't do this. You'll put him in more pain before he dies. Look," Issam ordered as he took control of their head and turned it to look at the boy.

He was frightened, crying, but his gaze was clouded. His breathing was shalllow and ragged. He gripped a man's arm until his knuckles were white.

He didn't look fit to handle what Ismay was proposing to do, not without a Healer of Rak'keli around. [I]"We are not ready for this, Ismay. Just stop."

The light brother shook his head and focused his attention back to the knife in his hand. He was certain he could do it. He only had to remove, pack the wound with gauze until the bleeding slowed, suture, then apply the poultice. "I have this. On my count," he said, receiving grunts and nods in response. "One.... Two...."

"Three."

WC: 515

[Ismay]

Ismay had gently applied the poultice to the stitched wound, despite the philter being more for small wounds than for larger, more severe rounds. The bleeding had long stopped but the boy's leg was pale. His whole body was, in fact, displaying exactly how much blood he had lost throughout the ordeal.

Everyone was quiet now. The boy had fallen unconscious from the pain not too long ago, his screams quieting to a low whimper and groans. His chest rose and fell slower than it had ever been, and his eyes moved sluggishly.

"I told you. You have caused this boy unnecessary pain by being hardheaded. He will not last long," Issam had mentally voiced to Ismay. His disappointment and anger was obvious as Ismay applied a bandage to the sewed wound, but he said nothing.

Ismay smoothed the bandage over, drawing a heavy wince from the boy. The Akontak recoiled slightly, to not bring more pain, before he sat back entirely and stopped moving. "Why did you do it, Ismay? You knew better." Issam was heavily considering taking over so that Ismay might rest, but waited.

"I couldn't just do nothing... I had to try. Lady Rak'keli would have wanted me to try," May responded.

"Would she really have wanted you to try?"

And now Issam remained silent as he walked through the market, idly listening to Ismay's thoughts. He could feel anger welling from May, overpowering the pitiful depression that had taken root. It was a reaction that they both would expect from Sam before May. "Why weren't we taught well enough? They all expected us to be great healers but didn't even make us any better than novices," Ismay essentially shouted in their head, causing their ears to ring.

"I can't answer that. But I do know that we need to do better in the future. And for that, we need to gather supplies," Issam said as he slipped away and Ismay returned to controlling the body, the exchange happening wordlessly and flawlessly.

Ismay turned on his heel and set his need to resupply to the side for the time being. The only thing on his mind was going to the Good Doc that ran the Clinic. The Akontak knew of the stories told about him, all of the terrible rumors and theories, but he also knew that the doctor was a master of medicine.

"I do not think Lady Rak'keli would appreciate us learning from someone like the doctor," Sam proffered, though he said nothing else to dissuade his brother to stop. "No, I don't think so, but we have no other choice. We don't have the means to return to Mura or to get anywhere else. He is the only doctor in Sunberth, for now."

WC: 458