Timbrelle’s quickened heartbeat at the rage she felt in Tuna sent a pounding through her eyes. The woman was furious at her having been forcibly attuned to Morto’s ruby—something Timbrelle had thought to be a distinctly good thing.

“I don’t know exactly what’s wrong, but he saved my life! I would have died without the attunement. Especially since I can’t attune to things on my own.” She rushed.

The door swung back open. Another voice, this time cold with impeccable diction. “Unless there is a definite threat, I advise you to bridle that bloodlust, Duchess Rigel. This is a hospital, after all.”

“Doctor Saddly.” Tuna bit off her reply and resumed her vigil in the corner, chastened.

Timbrelle felt the man turn to her, ignoring the Duchess. “I’m going to use this machine to test your soul frequency. I’ll hold it up to your chest and press the switch like so.” The pure tone of a crystal bell tolled from his direction.

“That is the sound of my soul. This—“ from beside him a slightly shrill note like a sustained key on an electric keyboard, droned.

“—is Doctor Fax. He’s brought me on as an expert in sonic waves and vibration. I will be able to read your test accurately provided I can run it myself. Now. May I?”

Timbrelle waved him on but then stopped. “Wait, wait. I have something called a ‘deafening aura’, will that be an issue?”

Doctor Saddly fiddled with the machine and said. “Thank you. That would have been unpleasant. Now let’s take a listen.”

She felt him place a small item the size of a smart phone against her chest. As it laid flat, a horrible screeching noise came blaring out. The cacophony, a mix of broken garbage disposal, cats fighting and poorly performed bagpipes, continued for a good twenty seconds. The doctor picked the machine back up and plunged them into oppressive stillness.

“I won’t lie, I was hoping for something prettier.” Timbrelle said. Now Morto’s words that day in the kitchen were making sense. He hadn’t been able to hear her ruby over how noisy her soul was. The reserved auror never mentioned how outright foul it truly was. What a good guy. She probably owed him a couple life debts now. They were a very real thing here and sounded a lot more fun when she was doing hypothetical research and threatening Adna with one. Though, to be fair, most things were better with Adna. Hearing her soul rattle around inside her like a fork in a blender might have been a little less disturbing if Adna had attempted to beatbox to it the way she tried with anything vaguely rhythmic.

As the doctors discussed possible diagnoses, Timbrelle tested Adna’s breathing with a hand. Her chest rose and fell at a barely noticeable rate.

“Can you please check Adna? She’s the real reason we’re here.” Timbrelle said.

“Huh? Oh! Right, right, right. Doctor Saddly, this is the other patient I mentioned.” He stepped over to her bed.

“How fascinating… You were right, my attention slides right off of her. May I do a reading?”

“Please do.”

Doctor Saddly moved to test Adna. They sat in a long gap of utter silence before she heard the glorious chime of Dr. Saddly’s soul once more.

“So it is working.”

Another pause, much shorter.

Fax asked Saddly “Have you encountered a silent soul before?”

“Mmm… no. And I’m still not convinced I have. People, trees, bugs—they all have some discernible soul signature. This is the reading I would get from a statue.” Saddly reported.

“Truly? Hmm… Let me confirm by testing her aura motivity. I have a mattaticus.” Fax said.

They talked amongst themselves, Timbrelle tuned them out as best she could when the terms became too foreign to follow. She focused instead on what Morto had said during that conversation in the kitchen. Hadn’t he heard the ping! of her interface? Was there something to that? Maybe he could help her figure out how to open it. There was no saying how magic worked in this world but she was sick of waiting for someone to teach her. Piña had been a terrible teacher that stormed out when she extorted one little gem from him—a sapphire she’d immediately eaten and, predictably, been unable to attune to. Loren was a great teacher… if she needed to take the SATs. Timbrelle, however, had a monster following her and a planet to get back to. Progress needed to move much faster if she was to outrun the creature. She needed to get a grip on her “powers”… whatever the hell they were.

Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author.

Dr. Fax addressed her again. “I believe this will take longer than planned. Expect test results tomorrow morning. You’ll need to be asleep for the treatment on your eyes to be fully effective. We can talk more then.”

“I don’t sleep.” Timbrelle said. “Well I guess that’s not entirely true. I slept last night, so I won’t be able to for a few days or a week maybe.”

“You don’t sleep... Do you eat?” Saddly asked.

“Yeah, plenty. I’m not especially hungry but I’m trying to build muscle. Not like Adna who eats like a draft horse and works out just as hard.”

“Timbrelle, was it?” Saddly asked. “I’d like to hear more about Adna’s tendencies, if you don’t mind. She eats large quantities. Tell me, does she happen to sleep frequently? Perhaps even excessively?”

“How did you know? She falls asleep instantly whenever we have a moment’s break.” Timbrelle answered dutifully. “I didn’t realize those things were symptoms. There’s plenty more weird shit, if that’s what you’re looking for; Amethyst doesn’t work on her and she doesn’t have any memories. Oh! I almost forgot! Please check her back. It’s much more concerning than my sternum.”

“One last question and this one is the most important; Does she dislike or avoid water?” Saddly asked.

“Yes! I thought it was because the one time she was submerged almost killed her. She sinks like a stone.” Timbrelle confirmed.

Fax sounded alarmed but thoughtful. “You don’t think—“

“It’s looking like that more and more.” Saddly said.

“It would be the first time in modern history… help me get her on her side. I need to see what could be worse than a gaping wound like that one.” Fax said.

There was the sound of Adna being flipped along with the nervous pat of Tuna’s hand on her elbow. Timbrelle could hear them pull up Adna’s shirt. This time it was Doctor Fax’s turn to gasp.

Saddly asked. “What can you feel with your amethysts?”

“Nothing. Less than nothing. When I look at that mark I can’t feel you three in the room. Not only is there nothing there, it’s pulling energy in. This may be how she’s able to survive.” Fax reported.

“Please use the mattaticus. I believe I’m coming to a diagnosis. That should confirm it.” Saddly said.

Timbrelle could hear one of them fiddling with an instrument. He seemed to wave it over her body like a metal detecting wand.

Fax made a surprised noise. “Curious. There is an error. I suspect you knew this would happen.”

“Indeed. I’m quite certain now.” Saddly rolled a stool over to sit beside Timbrelle’s examination table. “Your friend, Adna has no soul. But as Doctor Fax said, the situation is curious because she appears to be living off the excess energy from your soul. Now, Unmade have loud souls by nature but yours is, as you said, deafening. This could be due to a few possible things one being a soul within the normal size range undergoing repeated trauma, another being multiple souls in one body. I’m tempted to rule those options out as multiple souls would give off a number of distinct spectral frequencies. There’s simply too much soul in your body.”

“This is where is gets truly interesting.” Fax added, “A deafening aura to this degree should leave you in a vegetative state but here you are. I believe this is due to the mark on her back. From the look of her condition she has also taken away your ‘penance’, or the spectral toll one must accept for shattering an aurora gem. She is paying that price in your place since you, in essence, share a soul. Hence all the ruby detritus in her lungs. Right now, that mark and the penance are consuming more spectral energy than she can siphon while maintaining consciousness. If we could evenly distribute that energy between you two, I believe she could bounce back relatively quickly.”

“This may also be why you don’t sleep. The body runs off of food, sleep and spectral energy. The excess energy in your soul meets those needs and more. The account of your recent accident states you were apart for a day before she came to find you. Do you have any idea what she did during that time?”

Tuna, who Timbrelle had forgotten in the corner, spoke up. “A member of the congregation noted that she was much more lethargic and constantly asking to see Timbrelle.”

“…you didn’t tell me that.” Timbrelle whispered.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t realize the weight of her complaints.” Tuna apologized. The emotion in her voice was apparent.

Fax cleared his throat. “There was no way to know the severity of the situation until now. No one is to blame for this unfortunate turn of events. We know now that you two should be kept together—for both your sakes. This next part should be made abundantly clear: she will die and you will become disabled if you stay apart too long. Until we can find a treatment for the overall issue, this is our best option.”

“I have an idea for the issue of equilibrium.” Saddly suggested. “Doctor Fax, what do you think of a modified NICU soul transfusion?“