“I have a good idea of your nature, but I am not yet absolutely certain,” Physician Mindful-Sight began, pacing back and forth in front of the rattlesnake. “Is a strong theory satisfactory?”
“I do not care,” the snake hissed. “Just tell me!”
“Very well. I believe that you, unlike the other entity you share a body with, are a newborn.”
“What?” The snake halted, tilting its head. “I am clearly not a hatchling.”
“You mistake physical development for mental maturity, but that is to be expected. Most do.” The chameleon shifted to a bright green and began to pace back and forth, eager to explain. “All animals, feral or not, are born with a Physical Mind. A nervous system, typically composed of a brain, spinal column, and nerves. However, Gifted creatures are conscious on a level that our feral kin are not. A Physical Mind cannot Understand. It can learn, recognize, and memorize, but true Understanding is beyond its capabilities. Therefore, the Gift of Understanding must exist separate from the Physical Mind. It must exist in a True Mind, a connected consciousness capable of Understanding information and acting on it.”
“My body is old, but my… ‘True Mind’ is young?” The snake asked, connecting the dots.
“Indeed. It is a rare condition, but one that does have precedent, and is far more common in reptilian brain structures than in those of mammals. Physical trauma can damage the Physical Mind, breaking Connections and severing the True Mind from the Physical Mind. In most cases, the Connections are reestablished without issue. If they are not, for whatever reason, Connections to a new True Mind can be formed instead, creating a new individual.”
“But I know things I should not. What if I am simply an amnesiac?”
“Those could easily be memories retained by the Physical Mind. Base emotional associations, and learned reflexes, mostly. Is there anything more than that?”
“No...” The snake hissed, lowering its head to stare at the ground. As it did so, the chameleon touched the top of the snake’s head with a claw and gently traced two lines across its scales.
“You cannot see them because of their location, but you have scars on your head. The foundations of your existence were likely created long before your counterpart appeared. Its appearance seemingly removed the one thing preventing your emergence.”
“If I am truly not Forward-Strive, then…” The snake fell still for a while, processing everything it had just learned. Mindful-Sight remained close by, its presence offering silent support as a conclusion was finally reached. “Fang,” it rattled, coiling up. “The representation of our beginning. The tool of our survival. That will be my name.”
“Just Fang?” Mindful-Sight inquired with a tilt of its head.
“No, because we are not just Fang. But she should name herself.” Fang directed its thoughts at the human sharing its body, silently continuing. Do you know your name? I know you have been listening.
Sorry, the human answered, slightly embarrassed. Turns out that not paying attention was more or less impossible. She paused to think, running through the possibilities. She honestly hadn’t given her own name much thought. Dealing with what was in front of her had been a good distraction from that problem, and when it had just been the four of them alone in the woods, not having a name wasn’t much of a hindrance. But… was it really as simple as just picking one?
Yes, it is that simple, Fang answered.
Not if you already had a name you were comfortable with! the human shot back.
“We should go back inside,” Mindful-Sight prodded the snake to get the pair’s attention. “It will likely start raining again soon, and Ink-Talon is probably awake by now. If what you have told me is true, it will need help with more than its leg.”
Once more taking the opportunity to put off thinking about her name, the snake followed Mindful-Sight back into the building where Ink-Talon was waiting for them, awkwardly splayed out on his pillow in what seemed to be the least uncomfortable position for him with his leg carved up and bandaged the way it was.
“Hey,” the crow croaked pathetically, his voice even more hoarse than normal.
“How are you feeling?” the snake asked, relieved to find that he wasn’t running a fever. One of the perks of being able to “see” differences in heat.
“Like someone took a knife to my leg.”
“Fair enough.”
“I assume you already know the extent of your injuries?” The Physician stepped between the two, cutting off the banter to get right to the point. When Ink-Talon nodded in the affirmative, it continued. “Then I will move on to your treatment and prognosis. Once the wounds have closed, I will work with the Crafters to fit your leg with a brace that should allow you its use for light activity as the bone mends, though even afterward it would be prudent to wear the brace for anything strenuous.”
“Makes sense.” Ink-Talon huffed, clearly displeased with the idea of never again being in peak form. “Though there was one strange thing that happened when I first woke up. Actually, a lot of strange things are going on.”
Explaining the troubles he was having with his Attunement required Ink-Talon to more or less start with the “lead room incident,” as he’d taken to thinking of it. And as he did, Mindful-Sight’s colors first faded to a pale gray before steadily darkening as the story continued. Horror giving way to anger was the bird’s best guess at the emotions the chameleon was feeling right then, given that it had clenched one of its feet into what almost resembled a fist. It didn’t interject, though, and waited for him to finish listing all of the ways his behavior had become more and more unnerving in the weeks since.
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“I am sorry.” The first thing Mindful-Sight expressed after he had finished was an apology.
“It is what it is,” the crow shrugged. “I was just wondering if you knew-”
“No! Do not absolve me of my part in this.” Mindful-Sight clamped a foot around his beak, demanding that he stop and pay attention. “I guided you in your Attunement, and I did not do my due diligence in identifying exactly what the nature of that Attunement was. I had assumed that you were Attuned to specifically the functions of your body, and I was wrong.”
“And still, you saved my life,” Ink-Talon extended a wing to touch the chameleon’s side, though he quickly withdrew when it made keeping his balance difficult.. “I don’t blame you for this any more than I blame you for the missing bits of my leg. Both were medically necessary. My treatment in Darksoil is likewise not your fault.” He sighed, catching Gray peeking out from behind another cushion to his left, seeming to have been avoiding him since he woke up. “I just want to learn how it works so that I can stop hurting people I care about.”
“You’re using it right now,” the snake rattled. “I doubt your real feelings are quite that pragmatic.”
Ink-Talon’s breathing hitched. Was he really that callous? Being kind only because it was more productive to his “goals” than actually feeling his feelings? When was the last time he was genuinely angry? Storming out of Physician Able-Heart’s office? That was partly a ploy to shift the topic off of how “irresponsible” his Attunement was and onto how he could actually use it to help Eager-Horizon. Telling off Guardian Golden-Streak for shoving him in a lead box? That was as much a calculated attempt to shame the leopard into not repeating the experiment as it was genuine emotion. Before that it was…
…It was before I was Attuned. When I was delirious from a lack of sleep and lashed out at Quiet-Dream and Seeker Silver-Tail. When my emotions were unrestrained and my faculties were impaired. Ink-Talon shut his eyes and clenched his beak. Desperately trying to remember anything that disproved his conclusion. He failed. “You’re right,” he croaked out, flopping back over onto the pillow. “I’m not sure if I’ve genuinely felt my own emotions since gaining my Attunement. I don’t know who I even am, underneath all this.”
“It is not that severe,” the Physician turned green and pointed both eyes at him as it gestured with its right foot. “Your Attunement does not give yourself the ability to falsify your emotions. Understand and suppress your awareness of them, perhaps, but not create them. Anything you have felt has been completely genuine. There are merely additional emotions you have not been fully experiencing.”
“But… why? How does this help me? How does this further my goals?”
“It does not.” Mindful-Sight tapped its claws on the floor, letting its eyes wander as it pondered the issue. “Physician Able-Heart had the right idea when identifying the scope of your Attunement, but was missing important context. Do you recall what you expressed to me when you agreed to let me guide you?”
“I… no.” Ink-Talon sighed. “I was too exhausted. It was all a blur.”
“You said ‘I just want to sleep.’ In that moment, you framed it as wanting, as a desire, rather than as a need or a goal. Even if it was all of those, your personal framing mattered the most at that moment.”
“...Damn it.” The crow rasped after a moment of silence. “It really is as simple as fulfilling my wants at the cost of my needs, isn’t it. Meaning the only reason I’ve been torn up about it is because I want to be.”
“Ink-Talon.” A small peep from his left announced Gray’s entry into the conversation. “Be angry at me. I did this. I made it worse.” It hopped between him and Mindful-Sight, forcing the chameleon to take an awkward step back.
“No, this isn’t—” Right then, the crow actually noticed himself doing it. Noticed that he was slipping into precise, calculated movements to tell a convincing lie. But that lie was the right thing to do, wasn’t it? “This isn’t your fault!”
“Blame me!” the squirrel kit squealed, glaring at him with the same accusatory eyes he saw in his dream. “I ran away! I refused to go back! I slowed you down and you were hurt!”
“I’m not going to-”
“Blame me!” Gray pounced on Ink-Talon, causing him to cry out twice, once when the impact jostled his injured leg, and again when the kit sunk its teeth into his right wing, biting deep enough to draw blood. It let go and jumped away just as quickly, growling as it resumed its glare. “Stop protecting me!”
“Hey! Quit it!” The rattlesnake lunged forward, sweeping Gray back with the sheer bulk of her coils, wrapping around to do it a second time when the squirrel clambered over her to continue harassing its guardian. “I get that you’re frustrated, but this won’t help anyone.” A glare of her own halted Gray in its tracks, and after a few seconds of panicked panting, it once more squirmed free and darted into the far corner of the room. With one last angry look at Ink-Talon, it curled up and covered its face with its tail.
“Thanks,” Ink-Talon sighed. “I owe you–”
“No,” the snake rattled, turning to glare at him with the same intensity it had with the kit. “You do not get to evade the problem. Not this time. Are you so pathetic as to simply give up at the smallest amount of resistance? If what the chameleon expressed is true, then you refuse to feel because you do not want to. Why?”
“Insults will not help any more than violence will,” Physician Mindful-Sight hissed, moving to examine Ink-Talon’s bite wound.
“Fang is right, though,” the snake nodded, causing Ink-Talon to realize that he hadn’t been dressed down by the human occupant of that body, but her native counterpart who had apparently come up with a name while he was out. “The only reason there’s a problem is that you refuse to feel things like anger or sadness. And I think Gray figured out the reason. The only negative emotions I’ve seen you express have been self-directed. Guilt, shame, disgust, fear…”
“...Because I want to protect you. Not from physical harm, but from the burden of my own issues.” Ink-Talon sat up, very carefully swinging his injured leg down so that it hung off of the pillow rather than resting under him. “I think I know what to do, but I’d like to be alone to do it. I… need to reckon with some things.”
“Let me clean that bite, first,” Mindful-Sight tapped on his shoulder, having turned a deep brown while listening to the conversation. “It is a shallow wound, but any kind of bite runs the risk of infection.”
“Right. Thanks. You’re a lifesaver.”
“It is my duty to be one, I would be a terrible Physician if I was not.”
“Of course.” Taking a deep breath, Ink-Talon next turned to the snake. “And you. I needed the outside perspective, and the harsh honesty. Thank you, Fang. And you too.” He couldn’t turn his gaze to indicate that he was addressing the other one, but he hoped that their unimpaired Understanding picked up on what he meant.
“Temperance,” the snake hissed softly after a moment, bobbing her head in agreement with herself. “Call me Temperance, since that seems to be my nature in this strange symbiosis we’ve got going on.”
“I like it,” Ink-Talon clicked cheerfully. “Temperance, Fang. Can you look after Gray for the time being? It probably shouldn’t be around for this, either.”
“Of course,” Temperance-Fang nodded, moving to try and coax the kit out of its moping, or at least convince it to mope somewhere else for the time being.
Soon enough, the crow had a fresh bandage on one shoulder and the room to himself again. His feathers fluffed up a bit as his heartbeat quickened. This was truly what he wanted. To know who he was, beneath this mask he’d built to hide his pain from his friends.
The mask was made of fear. He’d been so afraid of hurting others when their own psyches seemed to be balancing on a knife’s edge. Afraid that he would be the final straw that broke someone close to him. But he had to trust them. Trust himself. Hiding had only led to feelings of hurt and betrayal.
I’m sorry, Quiet-Dream. You deserved better than how I treated you. Next time we meet, I’ll be there as the real me. I promise.
Ink-Talon took a deep breath and closed his eyes, focusing on exactly what he wanted to do.
I want to let go of that fear.
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