“I’m fine! Perfectly fine!” Ambrose proclaimed, smiled perched precariously on his face. But his head was twitching, and there was a limpness to his form that reminded her of a scarecrow hanging on a post.

“Ambrose. You don’t look fine,” she said, sitting next to him. She was so worried for him, the alchemist had promised the operation to replace Ambrose’s brain would be a success.

He looked a thousand times worse.

His opened his mouth. Closed it. Closed and opened his fists.

“Do you know, when you’ve gone so long without something and you forgotten…I mean, you haven’t had food in ages and you stuff yourself and then…no, I mean…I mean the chickens came home to roost before I could count them…fiddlesticks, I’m crossing metaphors!” he sighed, swinging his arms wildly in his frustration. “I mean, I mean—”

DG looked towards the alchemist for answers. “But I thought you said it wasn’t damaged,” she said, holding Ambrose’s hand.

“But it wasn’t your highness! The electrodes that were inserted were masterfully placed—”

“Don’t want to damage the noggin running the machine!” Ambrose declared happily, cocking his head to the side as he looked towards the ceiling in glee.

“There were no problems in the surgery, everything reattached just fine. However, your highness,” he began, unable to hide the pity in his eyes, “and this is only a theory…he was separated from his brain for so long, the synapses may have forgotten what they’re there for.”

“What, so his brain is damaged? Is it permanent?” she asked, a cold feeling washing over her.

“His brain’s forgotten how to work as a whole. It may remember, come to heal itself. But…it may take some time. And…it may never get better.”

“Ha! Hear that!” Ambrose said in triumph. “Oh…that’s not good,” he then said, sobering. “I thought losing my marbles was the last of my worries, heh!” and he was laughing again, his head twitching with even more force.

“Oh, Ambrose,” DG said, and feeling her eyes growing misty, hide her growing tears by hugging him instead.

Ambrose seemed to grow lucid for a moment—the twitches stilled, and he took a deep breath.

“Looks like you should still be calling me Glitch for a while longer,” he said, and the ghost of his old self was in it.