The eleventh of September.

We decided to split into two teams. False, Nimble, and Asylum were to figure out a way to help Nimble’s parents, and so they went out into the town. While they did that, Risk dragged me away back to the house.

“What’s got you so freaked out?” I asked, confused at his haste in getting me separated from the others.

“I think something’s going wrong with your brain,” he replied bluntly.

I shrugged. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“Did you touch any articles lately?” he asked.

“Not without neutralizing them. Their effects are nullified as soon as they enter Alterspace due to the dimensional wall standing between them and this world. I haven’t touched a single article that hasn’t gone right to Alterspace.”

“What if you didn’t know something was an article?”

I rolled my eyes. “They’re all based off works of fiction from my world. They stand out.”

“The scalpel didn’t,” he pointed out. His eyes suddenly widened. “The scalpel!”

“What about it?”

“What’s its effect?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t tested it yet. But judging from what I saw, whoever touches it develops the immense urge to perform transplants and surgical operations, even on those who don’t need it.”

He rubbed his temple. “You could have just said ‘perform surgery’.”

“‘Surgery’ is too diverse a term. It refers to pretty much any instance of a medical operation. This guy wasn’t performing any elective surgery; all of it seemed to be excision, organ transplants, amputa-”

“SHUT UP WITH THE COMPLICATED LINGO!” he screamed. I shut up. “You’ve been talking like some freaking genius ever since last night! Why can’t you just talk normally!”

The two of us were silent for a moment, Risk’s uproar still echoing off the walls. Finally, I spoke, slowly and calmly.

“...Risk...I’m speaking normally.” As much as it sounded like I was trying to contradict him, I felt somewhat freaked out by the potential revelation. “This feels like the way I’ve always talked...”

He blinked, then took a breath. “...elective surgery. Describe it.”

“Elective surgery is a form of surgery that is scheduled in advance due to not involving a medical emergency. Often these are for cosmetic purposes at the behest of the patient, such as plastic surgery or breast augmentations. Semi-elective surgery is surgery that must be done to preserve the patient’s life, but can be postponed and scheduled, so it isn’t a complete medical emergency.”

He nodded slowly. “Right. You pretty much lost me at ‘scheduled in advance’.”

“...I lost myself at ‘scheduled in advance’.” I whimpered a bit. “Why do I know these things?”

“Anything?” Risk asked as the other three came back.

False nodded. “We think we have a plan, but we’re going to need the Fine Rock and Arrell.”

Risk nodded and, with a small flare of magic, turned his horn back into the Fine Rock, giving it to her. While that happened, Asylum noticed me sitting in a chair, slumped over like I was sulking.

“Um...is he okay?” she asked.

“He’s not allowed to talk anymore,” the unicorn said nonchalantly. “Not until we figure out why he’s suddenly so experienced with hospital talk.”

False raised an eyebrow. “Hospital talk?”

“Yeah. He was blabbing on and on about ‘elective surgery’ earlier...”

“You asked me!” I snapped.

“So...he got smart, so you’re making him be quiet?” False tried to clarify. “That seems...stupid.”

Risk shrugged. “It’s annoying.”

“Yeah? Well, we need him, annoying or not. So how about you take some time to relax and figure out his...‘hospital talk’...while we solve the problem of Nimble’s parents?”

Risk sighed and walked away to his room, leaving me with the other three. I heard his door slam. “...temper,” I remarked.

“Kind of,” False agreed. “Arrell, we need your help, but this is going to be risky. Are you still able to sense the Fine Rock’s location?”

I took a moment to close my eyes and focus. When the Fine Rock was acting as Risk’s horn, I had no such connection to it, but when it became detached I could locate it. I just needed a moment to ‘find’ it again in my mind. Eventually, I nodded.

“Tonight, we’re going to slip this in with a few gems that Nimble brings to the Diamond Dogs,” she explained. “You’ll need to lead us to where it ends up.”

I nodded. This seemed like a sound plan. The Fine Rock was impervious to damage, so even if the dogs found it and tried to eat it, they’d break their teeth. And as small as it was, they wouldn’t be able to swallow it whole. They’d probably just think it was a weird, sturdy gem and toss it away. Even so, that’d give us a lead.

“That still gives us several hours of daylight to kill,” she added, stowing the Fine Rock away. “So let’s talk about your ‘hospital talk’.”

I groaned. “Do we have to? That ‘hospital talk’ is the reason Risk tried to put me on mute mode.”

Asylum sat beside me comfortingly. “We just want to know you’re not being hurt by some article.”

“I already told you, I neutralize all articles I touch!” I exclaimed, annoyed. “And the last one I touched was the scalpel!”

“Maybe there was another article in the hospital that you didn’t notice?” she suggested.

“I doubt it. I wasn’t talking weirdly at all until I got home, apparently. And I didn’t touch anything when I left.”

False put a hoof to her chin, trying to think. “...maybe the scalpel is having some lasting effect on you?”

“I neutralized it.”

“Yeah, but maybe that didn’t work. It might have messed with your brain.”

I blinked. What she said made sense. I thought back to what the doctor said about Dr. Cut while I was at the hospital…

“He’s a bit of a rookie...he just got a job here last week.”

“He seems to know what he’s doing...”

“While he likely won’t get into too much trouble since he was being controlled by the scalpel, he does remember everything that happened...”

“...oh fuck.”

“What is it?” False asked, looking concerned.

“...I picked the scalpel up...it turned me into a crazy doctor...but it gave me actual medical knowledge.” I stared down at my hooves, even though there was nothing even remotely interesting about them. “When it was taken from me, I wasn’t crazy anymore...but I still remembered everything...”

They all stared, as if waiting for me to reach a conclusion.

“...I just learned in less than two hours what takes regular surgeons twelve to fifteen years.” I blinked. “...I’m scared...”

I grabbed onto Asylum in a hug like a little kid and didn’t let go.

Author's Notes:

For those who don't understand why Arrell is afraid of knowing all that stuff...keep in mind that, prior to this, the only stuff he knew about medicine and surgery was common knowledge. Now he suddenly knows a ton of stuff, and he doesn't understand most of it unless he's actively explaining it. His mind is full of (to him) random crap he doesn't get. So he's gonna be a little freaked out.