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Runaan frowned at his newly adopted daughter’s back.
“Ru-naaan, noooo,” the toddler cried, trying to wiggle out of bath time. She had good markings, for the most part.
Markings meant a lot in elven culture. Different parts of the body meant different things. Or so it was said, anyway. There were ‘readers’, elves well read up on the topic to review your patterns, or often your baby’s patterns, and tell about the future. Face markings predicted your career. Stripes on the face meant you’d be a great warrior, while circular patterns signified artists. Arm markings were supposed to speak to sins and downfalls. Things to be weary of. And the lower back spoke of love.
Patterns there could be both elaborate and baffling. There would be ribbons and swirls weaving together, telling a love story. They would sometimes span half the back and reach across the sides. Your soulmate would share the same exact pattern. For as intricate and complex as they could be, every last detail would be perfect.
And yet, this child only had a single line. It was thin and slashed across her lower back. The only thing of slight interest was a mild bend in the middle of it. It didn’t even have style to it. It looked like someone just put ink to paper and threw their hand across it.
“Is she taking to the water?” Tinker asked, knocking Runaan out of his daze.
“No, not yet,” he looked at her face, still in terror of the tub of water. “What do you think of her back,” he muttered. His lover got a look at it and grunted.
“I’ve never seen that before. Is that all of it?”
“Yes. Just that line,” Runaan traced the line. Tinker chuckled.
“It’ll make it easy for her. Just ask around for the person with the most boring love pattern. She’ll find her soulmate within days,” Tinker laughed, forcing a smile out of Runaan as well. He still couldn’t shake the concern though. It had to mean something.
…….
“Zym, don’t eat that,” Rayla hurried over to the wee dragon and scooped him away from the bush. “You either Callum,” she said after noticing him eying some red berries.
“I wasn’t going to,” he said with indignation. Rayla rolled her eyes.
“We can eat later. We are dangerously close to a Sunfire town. Let’s go," she commanded. Callum sighed and followed along after her.
"We can't even stop for a quick snack? We skipped lunch," his whining continued. Rayla tried to smother the love she had for him. If it was anyone but Callum she would have instantly told them no, and to stop their complaining. So, that's exactly what she told him.
"No. And I don't want to hear another word of it." She didn't have any business having a crush on the prince. He was a human for Moon's sake! S human prince with a human crush of his own. So, any soft feelings she harbored towards him were completely unrealistic.
But how could she help it if his pout was just so damn cute?
"How about we sing instead?" Callum suggested cheerily, all thoughts of food gone.
"Ooooh, good idea. That'll scare off anyone for miles around," Rayla teased.
"Hey, my dad always said I had a good voice," he defended with humor in his voice.
"Oh, your dad. I'm sure he was an impartial judge," she nodded sarcastically. Callum grinned and rather than keep up the banter he opted to prove his point.
"I gave my love a cherry, that had no stone," he started singing. The tenor of his voice was surprisingly pleasant.
"I gave my love a chicken, that had no bone." Rayla sighed, enjoying the song more than she should of. He wasn't particularly impressive but something about it made her get lost in his voice. It didn't help he was singing about a lover.
"I gave my love a story, that had no end," she focused too much on the sound of his voice and not the sound of the footsteps.
"I gave my love a-." Rayla freed her swords and dove towards Callum. The Sunfire elf had to abort his attack on the human. Callum yelled and ducked, Zym rolled out of his arms. Rayla stood protectively over him. She eyed the Sunfire but still checked to make sure he was alone. He was.
"Moonshadow, what is the meaning of this," he bellowed. His sword was regular steel. A commoner. Should be easy to fool.
"I am delivering a prisoner to the queen," Rayla pulled loose a scroll bearing the royal seal. Granted, it didn't say anything about prisoners, but the Sunfire didn't need to know that. He just needed to see the seal. He did. And he paled.
"Do you know what interfering with royal business will get you?" She went on the verbal offensive.
"I, I didn't realize. He didn't seem like a prisoner, he was singing."
"He's been singing for the last hundred miles, driving me mad. Get out of here before I take you to the queen too," she shook a sword at him and he scurried off. "Loser," she muttered under her breath.
"Hey Rayla? I think I'm hurt," Callum whined from the ground behind her. She gasped when she saw him. His face was twisted in pain and blood was seeping out from his lower back.
"Oh no," she kneeled down beside him. It wasn't that bad, judging by the amount of blood. But he needed treatment right away. "Get up Callum, we need to get you somewhere safe." Rayla pulled him up and together they hobbled through the forest in search of shelter. Luckily Zym hadn’t run away and started scampering after them. Callum was leaving a trail of blood and stumbling over his feet. He could hardly walk. So when they found an overhang of rocks, they deemed it a cave and took shelter.
"Is it bad?" Callum whimpered.
"Not too bad," she answered truthfully. Though it probably sounded like a lie. Seeing the prince hurt and bleeding left her a little rattled.
“That’s a lot of blood,” he whined, glancing behind them.
“You got a lot more in your body,” her words were firm but she laid him down tenderly. “Now, strip.”
“What?” He sequeaked. She rolled her eyes.
“Just your shirt, dummy. Come on, before you lose anymore of your precious blood.” He began undoing his top, but when it came time to pulling it off he winced in pain.
“Here, let me,” she lifted cloth from flesh, revealing unblemished skin. Except for, of course, his lower back. That was a giant splotch of red with more coming out. “Lay on your belly,” she commanded while she dug into their medical supplies. Callum obliged and she began cleaning it. It was starting to clot now that they weren’t running around. She dabbed away dried blood, leaving just the fresh stuff to congeal and stem the bleeding. See stared at the mark with idle curiosity.
The blade first hit on his right side. It slid over and down halfway across his back. Then it jumped, making an odd curve. That must be when Rayla charged. The rest of the line was straight, and ended a few inches later. It would leave an interesting scar. The line was oddly familiar, though she couldn’t put her finger on it.
“Am I going to be okay?” He sounded like he actually thought he was dying. Rayla snorted.
“Not a chance. If you are still this much of a baby, there’s no hope for you. Oh, you mean the wee cut? That’ll be fine,” she put a salv on it and covered it in gauze. She was still frowning though. Something about it…
It was her love pattern. Exactly the same pattern.
“Are you sure? Because you look like I’m going to die,” he squirmed, picking up on her sudden shock.
“Uh, no. You’re fine. I just remembered something is all,” she tried to shake away the thoughts. It couldn’t be. It didn’t make sense. Love patterns were something you were born with. They couldn’t be scars.
“What? That you were also supposed to kill me too?” He joked, fear still in his voice.
“Do humans have love patterns?” She scooted to the other side of the cave. He looked confused.
“Um, no? I don’t know what those are, so probably not,” he shifted a bit before realizing that laying on his tummy was the only comfortable position for him at that moment.
“They’re marks you are born with. Your soulmate has matching marks, and that’s how you know you got the right one,” she explained.
“That’s neat. So elves actually have soulmates,” he rested a cheek on his hand and stared with interest. All previous fears about bleeding to death seemed to be forgotten. Maybe he finally trusted her when she said he would be fine.
“Humans don’t?” She bit her lip, trying to piece it together.
“No. Nothing like that,” he said. She stayed silent, thinking. Soulmates were born with matching markings. They didn’t get them later in life. But her markings were unlike anything anyone ever saw. And if humans didn’t have soul marks, maybe she just got whatever mark her soulmate had there. Or was destined to have.
“So, what does any of this have to do with me getting my back stabbed?” His eyes were a lively shade of green and they made her heart flutter. She knew she had a crush on him, but he couldn’t really be her soulmate.
“Just wondering. Noticed you didn’t have any markings anywhere on you. At least none that I saw,” she tried to dismiss any seriousness in the topic.
“No. Sometimes we come with freckles or mole or something. Nothing like the ones on your face though,” he commented and she instinctively thumbed her face markings. “So is that what they are for? Finding your soulmate? What even is a soulmate?” She sighed. He was always full of questions. Sometimes she liked it better when he thought they all drank blood.
“Some of them. They mean different things, usually something about the person we’ll become. It all depends on where they are,” she kept the topic of markings at that. She didn’t know what to think, much less how to tell Callum. “Soulmates are… Well, soulmates. Your other half.” She waved her hands around, but he still seemed utterly confused. “Do you really have nothing like that on your side of the Breach?” He shook his head no. She sighed.
“They say when you are born, you are only born with half a soul. The other half of your soul goes into someone else. Could be anyone,” she muttered, eyeing him. That’s what they say, that it could be anyone from any race of elf. “Literally the other half off your being. Once you find them, you’ll need them in your life forever. You’ll love them like yourself. And you’ll know, because your love patterns will be the same.” Her voice was sad, but his eyes twinkled with amazement. She loved him. She didn’t want to ever leave him. Was he really her soulmate?
“That’s… beautiful. I’m jealous. I wish humans had that. We just have to guess. Half the time it doesn’t last,” he frowned and they fell into silence for a long moment.
“Hey, Rayla?” Eventually he spoke up. There was an odd note to her voice. Like it was guarded, which he rarely was.
“Hm?”
“Do you have any idea who your soulmate is?” He looked almost afraid for the answer. Why was that? Did he also have feelings for her?
“I have a weird love pattern,” she said, trying not to give anything away or lie.
“Weird how?”
“Weird, like no one has a love pattern anything like mine,” she gripped her arm and looked away. She glared at the wall and hoped that he would accept it.
“Okay… What happens if you don’t find your soulmate?”
“People still pair up. We call them summands, our partners. It’s best to find your soulmate, but not everyone does.”
“What happens if you get a spouse, er, summand, but later find your soulmate?”
“It’s accepted that you’ll leave your summand for them, but only for your soulmate. Though it doesn’t always happen so easy,” Rayla replied. She preferred that line of questioning over her love pattern, but was still growing tired of it.
“What if-”
“No more Callum. You’ve already asked enough to fill a book. Get some sleep. Once the sun is down we’ll get moving again. We need to get you to an inn to heal up. Best to do it away from the one who stabbed you though,” she gave a firm stare and he pouted.
“How am I supposed to sleep with the sun up?” He whined and she threw a rag over his head.
“There, now it’s night. I’m going to find food. Zym, guard the Callum,” she playfully commanded the dragon prince. He blinked, but sat rigid and at attention after a moment, as though he was saluting her.
She took her time finding food. A lot of time she just spent pacing the area. She found some reflective, still water and even dared to look at her own love pattern.
It was exactly the shape as his wound. The same length, the same angle, the same curve. She traced it, frowning. She loved Callum. She loved him like she loved herself. He was her soulmate, but she wasn’t his. He didn’t have a love pattern. He had a random wound, someday scar, that meant nothing. It wasn’t fair.
When she got back, Callum was still laying on his belly. She dropped her pile of fruit by him.
"You don't have to stay like that, you know," she rolled her eyes but his expression made her stop.
"It hurts to sit up," he whined.
"I suppose it would. Here, let me help you up," she put her hands on him and pulled him into a sitting position. Their eyes met and she spent a brief moment just staring. He was her soulmate. She was not his.
"Hey Rayla, is something wrong?" He asked as she retreated to her half of the cave.
"Aside from an impending war between our nations while we're stuck in a cave because you just had to sing, nope, nothing at all," she huffed and stared to the wall. Unlike their usual banter, that one had an edge to it. She was angry. Not necessarily at Callum, more at fate. But still.
"I'm sorry, I was just trying to keep things lively. You seemed to like my singing," he offered weakly, trying to make peace. Rayla did like his singing. She wanted him to sing to her again. She hated that she wanted it.
"My favorite part was when you stopped," she spoke the words without thinking. Callum looked genuinely hurt, and seemed willing to let them sink into awkward silence.
"No, I didn't mean it like that," she tried to catch herself, but didn't know what else to say. She moved to the pile of fruit and started to cut pieces off.
"I'm sorry, I won't sing again," he muttered into the cave wall. It hurt Rayla. She hated how much it hurt her. He was her soulmate. She wasn't his.
She loved him. She wanted to see him happy. She wanted him to sing more and to stay with him forever. But he couldn't feel the same way. Humans didn't have soulmates. Humans simply didn't love how elves did.
"Here, have some," she handed him some cut fruit. He was slow to take it and didn't look at her. He didn't say anything. Why did it hurt so much? Why did her soulmate have to be a human?
"Callum, I’m sorry. I’m just in a foul mood is all. I didn’t mean it and I shouldn’t have said it,” Rayla tried to make things right. Callum finally looked at her, but he didn’t look much happier.
“No, you’re right. I’m not good at this kind of stuff. Fighting and sneaking, that’s stuff that you do. I usually just mess things up and get us in trouble. I’ll stop complaining so much and listen to you more.” His words made Rayla frown. He wasn’t mad at her, he was beating himself up.
“No, Callum, I like traveling with you, and all your complaining and singing and screw ups. You keep things interesting,” she smiled at him. He reflected it, though only as a forced smile.
“Do you think you could teach me some things?” He asked.
“Maybe. Depends on that those things are,” she was happy to get him talking again. He grabbed another piece of fruit and downed it before continuing.
“Assassin stuff. Well, more not-getting-killed stuff. Like, you’re always completely quiet when you walk. How do I do that?” She snickered,
“That takes time to learn. Don’t think I can teach you it. Buuuut, I can teach you the basics of not-dying,” she poked his side and he giggled at the contact.
“Can I use one of your swords when we practice?”
“Er, no. We’ll start you with sticks and when you show that you won’t kill yourself with a sword, I’ll consider it.”
“Probably for the best. I hurt myself enough with wooden swords,” he said. Rayla was happy to have him back to his regular self. But she had questions. Questions that were burning on her mind. Questions that would raise more questions from the prince.
“But, I want something in return,” she tried to carefully think of how to word it. “I have some more questions about humans.”
“Ask away. I’ve already asked a million questions about elves, so it’s only fair.” He ate another piece of fruit.
“So do humans have anything to help them learn about their fate?”
“Is this about the love patterns again?” He sounded too suspicious. Rayla flustered.
“No! Not entirely. We have more markings and they mean different things. Face markings mean something about your future profession, and ones on your arm mean something about your future troubles. We use them to help us go through life, make the right decisions,” Rayla tried to make the question seem less romance-centered. Even though that was exactly where it was going.
“Hm. Well, some people use the stars,” he looked at the setting sky. A few of the brightest stars were already visible.
“The stars? How does that work?”
“Where the stars were when you you born. I don’t know it too well, but there’s huge books on it. Some people get really into it.”
“That’s stupid. Everyone has the same stars. What if two people are born at the same time?”
“I uh, I guess they are suppose to be similar?” Callum scratched his head. “Dad always said it was nonsense.” He added before taking another piece of fruit.
“Does it work well at least,” Rayla questioned. “Are humans generally happy with their decisions? Happy with their profession? With their lovers?” She looked away, hoping that it was casual enough to not raise question.
“I don’t know. Maybe not. Lots of people don’t like their jobs, and half of marriages end in divorce,” he shrugged and she blinked.
“Half? What’s even the point then?” The notion hit her hard. So there was a fifty-fifty chance of Callum falling out of love with her? Were humans really that fickle?
“I guess that everyone thinks they pick the right person,” he didn’t seem too put off by it. “Maybe we make mistakes, but at least we get a choice. Seems like all of an elf’s life is decided before they can even walk.”
“It’s not decided, it’s just shown. No one makes you do anything.”
“So, if you wanted to do something completely different from what your markings said, would you?”
“I wouldn’t want to because my markings reflect what I want. Closest we have to that is our arm markings. They tell of mistakes and some people don’t listen to them. Usually ends badly.” She was still reflecting on the fact that half of human summands split.
“Do you have any arm markings?” He asked. She glared.
“You might not know it, but that’s a very rude question. How would you like it if I asked about your worst traits,” she jabbed him again in the side.
“Alright, alright! Fair point, I’m sorry I asked.” Callum painfully shifted down into a lying position. “So how long do you think until I can walk again?”
“Few days, maybe,” she muttered, still staring off. Half. That was abysmal. Were humans really that fickle? If so, it was true that humans didn't love like elves. That even if Callum liked her, he would never love her like she loved him.
“I expect you to practice flying at least,” Callum ruffled Zym’s mane. Rayla sighed and went about making a fire.
He was her soulmate. She loved him, and she would never stop loving him. She wasn't his soulmate. He might not love her, and even if he did he might stop. Humans didn't love like elves loved. It wasn’t fair.
…….
It was three days later when he saw it. She was washing up in the river. He was back to walking around. He didn’t realize that she was half-dressed when he wandered by. Thanks to the river, she barely heard the crunch of leaves under his feet and didn’t have time to do anything.
“Hey, Rayla, do you think- Oh! I’m so sorry I didn’t realize, I’ll just be over here-” his casual footsteps turned into fast, retreating ones. Rayla dove towards her clothes. She threw them on cursing herself. She had been out of sorts ever since Callum got hurt. Ever since she leaned why she had the love pattern she did.
He was back at the campsite, poking at a new fire. A deep, red blush clung to his cheeks, but his brows were knitted together in confusion. Rayla hoped against hope that he didn’t see. It was in vain though, she knew that. Once Callum’s eye fell on something, he had it committed to memory. It struck her as ironic that she was more concerned about him seeing her back than her breasts.
“I’m sorry Rayla, I didn’t know that you were, uh, cleaning up,” he said but didn’t dare look at her. Maybe he wasn’t at the right angle to see.
“It was bound to happen. Don’t get any ideas though,” she tried to joke, to put the thing in the past. He didn’t respond though. He just looked thoughtfully at the fire.
He saw. She knew it. His next words erased any doubt.
“The love patterns that you talked about. You said they were on the back, right?” He muttered. She heard him though. She grit her teeth and didn’t say anything. Silence fell and that was all the answer Callum needed.
“I really like you Rayla,” he started again and she sucked in a breath. “I mean, we’re close, you know? You’re like my best friend,” he continued and she looked away. It sounded like he was explaining how they were such good friends, and nothing else. She had a sneer on her face and was about ready to tell him to can it. He spoke before she could.
“Wait, wait. I’m saying this wrong. I like you as more than a friend, is what I mean,” his blush deepened and he refused to look at her. All the frustration left her and she waited for him to continue.
“I was thinking a lot about soulmates and stuff. You said that you have markings to show who your soulmate is, but you also have markings for other stuff. Maybe humans have soulmates too, but we just don’t have markings to help us find them,” he offered. His eyes shone bright, like when he first connected with the sky arcanum. Rayla tried to offer a smile but it turned into grimace.
“I… I don’t think that’s how to works,” she said. Though she was still reeling with his confession, it felt palty compared to hers. He liked her ‘as more than a friend’, meanwhile he was her soulmate.
“Maybe! I was thinking about it, and you are my best friend. You’re different than anyone else I ever met. We get each other. We understand each other and… And I think that you are everything that is missing in me. You’re strong, and brave, and confident. But you are still kind and caring. You’re what I’m not, but should be. That’s what soulmates are supposed to be, right? Your other half? You’re my other half Rayla. I love you,” He seemed almost desperate to convince her. His hands were stretched out, pleading. She smiled weakly and took one.
“Soulmates are like magic. And humans aren’t magic. I don’t think it’s a thing that humans have,” she shook her head but still held his hand lovingly. He was her soulmate. She was not his. He gripped her hand and pulled her into an embrace. She gasped slightly, but soon returned it. It was were she belonged.
“They said the same thing about primal magic,” he joked weakly. He was right. He shouldn’t be able to do primal magic, but he could. Maybe that meant something. She still couldn’t convince herself though. “And besides, even if humans don’t have soulmates, I still love you. And I promise to love you like you are my soulmate.” He said.
“Callum, you are the sappiest dummy I’ve ever met,” she dared to kiss him. To let him in. To let her try to be his soulmate. Or whatever humans had. He was her soulmate. She loved him like she loved herself. But she was not his soulmates. Humans didn’t have soulmates and they didn’t love like elves did. It hurt to think, but she couldn’t pull herself away from Callum.
She would stay by his side and love him. No matter the form of the relationship, she would love him like. Even if he stopped loving her and married Claudia, she would stay as a friend and love him. She didn’t have a choice. He was her soulmate.