Private Finished A sickness of the soul

It had felt like months since Shara's episode in the community center, when she'd been wracked with more pain than she had ever thought possible by the simple utterance of a word. If she were being honest, it had scared her. Terrified her, really. Not just the pain but the unknown of what it implied. She couldn't even begin to guess. And so she had retreated, all the progress that Ireneus had made in getting her to open up emotionally seemed to slip away as she fell back into the familiar comfort of cold detachment.

The call had come while Shara was at school: the doctors had gotten her test results back in. They wanted to go over the information with Irene and Shara, and so an appointment had been set. She hadn't protested at all, but the entire time from being picked up from school the day of and the trip towards the hospital, she was absolutely terrified under the surface.

The hospital was sterile as always, clean white walls punctuated with bright colored murals every so often to break up the monotony and dreariness that such a place could provide. Shara looked down at her shoes, making a mental note to buff and shine them when they got home. Just because she was sick with some unknown ailment was no reason to get sloppy.

"I know," she replied simply, still holding onto Irene's hand even though they had arrived at the hospital and checked in at the desk. She was trying her best to not show her nervousness, to not be weak. She didn't want Irene to worry, even though she knew that he would anyway. "I hope that they can tell us something, at least."

It wasn't long before they were called back. The pediatrics area where the nurse led them was infantilizing, at least by Shara's standards. Bright pastels and other additions to put children at ease did nothing to calm the nerves that she was doing a remarkable job of hiding on her face. Not so much in her hand, which continued to squeeze Irene's with a possessive, iron-locked grip.

And then they were alone again in the room, and Shara allowed herself to frown for the first time since she had gotten to school. There was nothing she would have liked better than to just leave, to not have to hear that something was wrong with her. Daring a glance up at her father, she felt her stomach drop at the worry he was clearly feeling.

"I love you too," she said. Though there was no inflection in her voice, she hoped that he knew that she meant it. She did mean it, right? Love was weak, but so was she in this moment. Shara leaned her head against Irene's side, just... hoping all of this would go away.

The kiss caught her a bit off guard, and she tightened her grip on Irene's hand. It wasn't a crushing grip by any means- she was no stronger in that regard than a human girl her age. But her father would find it pretty impossible to shake her grip regardless, assuming he even tried. Shara stayed silent, unsure of herself but nodding along with Irene as the door finally opened for the doctor to enter the room.

They were smiling, but that only made Shara stiffen up more. They looked like a statue, with marble white skin, hair, and eyes. "Shara. Ireneus. Good to see you both again." Shara thought this statue person was being far too familiar with her and her father, but she wasn't in a position to complain right now anyway.

"How are you feeling today?"

Shara didn't respond, and the doctor turned their attention to Irene. "Have there been any more incidents since the last visit? How are you both holding up?"

Shara's stare alternated between the doctor and Ireneus as they talked, fixating briefly on her father when he addressed her directly and discreetly. She nodded once and turned her eyes back onto the doctor, chewing on the inside of her cheek thoughtfully.

"I completely understand both accounts. Not knowing can be really scary, but finding out can as well. Thankfully..." the doctor began, going over some of the charts that they had, "I have to say that you are the picture of health for a Prax girl of your age, Shara."

That was not a satisfying answer, and the frown that Shara gave the doctor told everyone in the room as much. But there were questions, ones that started off simple enough but grew increasingly odd. Still, her father wanted her to answer everything that she could, so she did.

"My mechanical and biological augmentations were added within the three years after I was given to the Church. Yes, I was given as a newborn."

"I do not know the origin of my increased grip strength."

"Yes, Ve- the word that causes my episodes is the name of a demon in my people's old religious doctrine. She was the patron of tyrants and kin-slavers."

"No. Or, I do not know if she is alive or not. She and the other demon generals were driven off of Mes by Mother Khalida and her angels."

Shara didn't understand what any of this had to do with her or her strange condition, but it was maybe more obvious to an adult that the doctor was subtly steering the conversation to a particular question.

They waited patiently for the last of Shara's answers and laid their hands on their lap thoughtfully. Looking between the father and daughter, they asked matter-of-factly, "I know that you are aware of rebirth, Mr. Paulos. But how aware are either of you of reincarnation?"

Shara, for her part, knew very little of reincarnation. She knew that Khalida took the souls of the dead into her embrace, but that had been before she had been eaten by Malara. She glanced up when Irene tilted his head, noting the concern on his face and feeling a pit drop in her stomach. What did he know that she didn't? What terrible thing did reincarnation entail?

"Ah, it's a possibility," the doctor began, putting up a pair of open-palmed hands as if that could assuage Irene's fears. "We don't know for sure, but after speaking with an Oleti cultural expert it very much does seem like new Praxians are born using repurposed souls. Now usually such a process creates an entirely new person, but in the cases of very old or very potent souls..."

They glanced down briefly at Shara, who remained silent while the adults spoke as she had always been taught to. There was the distinctly unspoken implication behin their last words. Very old or very potent souls, like a high ranking demon. Then the doctor's gaze went back to Irene and they shrugged ever so slightly.

"Sometimes bits of the previous self can linger. Memories. Personality traits. Abilities. Again, assuming for a moment that this is the case: we haven't ever seen a reaction like this to a previous incarnation's name before. It's rather unprecedented."