"Bernard. Bernard!"

The Head Elf jolted up in his seat, nearly knocking the stack of papers off Santa's desk. Both Santa and Curtis were looking at him oddly. His pointed ears twitched as the ringing of bells grew louder. Sure, bells were always jingling at the North Pole. But these were different bells, magical bells. Bells that Bernard had centuries ago accepted that he'd never hear.

"Are you feeling alright, Bernard?" Santa asked, his face pinched with concern.

"I-I uh... I'm so sorry, Sir. Yes, I'm completely fine--"

Curtis cut in, vibrating with excitement, "You've started hearing bells!"

"Shut up," Bernard snapped. "There are no bells."

That was a lie. Bernard had been hearing the jingling for days now. Santa looked between the two of them in confusion. He'd only been Santa for a year now, and was learning new things about the elves every day.

"What bells?"

Bernard started to stammer, trying to get the subject dropped. But Curtis was all too eager. "Once in their lives, elves will hear jingle bells that mean their soulmate is close by! Some never hear them, and honestly after 1,600 years we all assumed Bernard--"

"Would never hear them," Bernard said through gritted teeth. "Elf soulmates are always some other species. Like a gnome, a vampire, a witch. Something else that lives forever, too."

Santa laughed, "Well that's excellent! And how are we supposed to find Bernard's other half?"

"The Hall of Snowglobes," Curtis said cheerily. "A globe with their name, species, and how close they are to the Pole should have appeared."

Bernard grumbled, already knowing that Santa and Curtis would stop at nothing to find his soulmate. And sure it was a sweet gesture. But Bernard had been alone for 1,600 years. He had long ago resigned himself to being a solo act. Threw himself into his work, became Head Elf, there was no way he could keep up a good relationship. It was just better for his soulmate if they never met.

Even if that meant hearing bells forever.