This post contains potentially sensitive material:
The last few days, the body of Triage had begun to deteriorate. They had felt it coming for a while, some strain on them that they couldn't shake off. Like a chord stretched too tight, about to break. Headaches broke out frequently across the three. Breath came short. Their magic wasn't listening to them as they strained, day by day, to walk, to move. Were they ill? Were they dying?
Illness was what they assumed. And so Buckley took care of them, forcing the body to rest, in a small pocket of Pisces, away from excitement. Where the water was clear and the prey was easy to catch. Where they could sleep off this illness and continue on like nothing was wrong. It was strange, though, for Gore to be so silent. They often caught it staring into the distance, shaking itself out when one called its name. More concerning, it dropped the sword-staff on occasion during these moments. Its jaw muscles had gone slack.
Ishani had taken to keeping an eye on it. She had grown quiet, concerned, making sure that they were taking care of themselves. Her clever mind worked through explanations, solutions, anything she could think of to help the rest of the body get better. Buckley did his best, but nothing was improving. They only got worse.
The morning that It happened was a rough one. The body woke, groggy, exhausted, heavy. There was something heavy in Buckley's chest, like a heartburn. And on Gore's skull, and Ishani's forehead. The cord was fraying, they all knew, but they didn't know why. What was going to happen when it broke? Buckley pushed past it, heaving the body up from their nest, expecting a bleating complaint from Gore, but found nothing. The goat was lethargic, blinking slowly, its head lolling to the side.
Ishani was staring at Gore and then she leaned forward to nudge him, quietly asking,
Gore swallowed, heavy, hissing quietly.
Worry consumed her. She pulled for magic, any magic, to try and feel what Gore was feeling, but Buckley's magic failed her, unpracticed as she was in it. She could only think and begin to realize herself what might be happening.
Why hadn't they seen anyone else like them? In the many cycles they'd wandered, no other gembound had more then one gemestone. Some had multiple heads, but they were all one. They...were three. They were different. And that wasn't always a good thing.
She'd been feeling it too, faint, like she wasn't quite all there. She had an idea of what was happening. And the pressure on her forehead, where her gemstone sat, was further evidence.
They were okay for a while like that, as Buckley finally dragged them to the shore of the lagoon and reached over to take a drink. The cool water felt good in his throat, but it did nothing to ease the heartburn that was only getting worse. He squeezed his own eyes shut and backed up, laying there at the edge of the water. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. It was going to pass.
It wasn't passing. It was ramping up, getting worse, more and more painful, quicker and quicker. And then they seized.
All three of them, at once. Their vision whited out and consciousness flattened as the body of Triage convulsed. They were all weak and fading and losing themselves in that moment, but they hung on. Gore was losing the fight, bleating as its head swung. The burning on its skull was like fire on the skin, slowly being snuffed out as the other two raged on. But Ishani had told it to fight, so it did.
They could all faintly feel the tail that was Ishani curling in on itself, hissing wildly. They could feel three fires, desperately holding on, begging to be fed. It was all they could feel, three fires competing for a moment as the source began to die, and then, one stopped its fight and was snuffed out in an instant.
The body relaxed. Consciousness flickered, and briefly went out.
Buckley opened his eyes first, head pounding, but the heartburn was, thankfully, gone. He groaned as he pulled himself back to a sitting position, paw coming up to rub at his head. He looked back to the rest of the body, where Ishani, too, had raised herself from the ground and was turning to look at the same time. Gore's head was limp.
His shoulder rolled back, nudging the goat's head, which also began to stir. It's eyes blinked blearily open with a growl.
She didn't respond. She simply stared forward ahead at Buckley, who looked back. Something dropped in his stomach. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. Ishani was always moving a bit, looking, watching, whispering. Now she stared blankly at him, looking without seeing. She gave no notion that she had even heard Gore speaking.
She was gone.