Chapter Text
When VR-LA awoke, there was nothing. He was alone on some sort of ship, drifting through an unfamiliar sea. It appeared to be night, the stars were out, hundreds of thousands of them, all shining brightly, making it hardly dark at all. He slowly got up, joints heavy, barely managing to stand up. Below the starry sky, there was an ocean. Water (if it could be called water, there was something different about it) shining, reflecting the astral light, blues and purples and yellows all mixing together. The Astral Sea.
VR-LA didn't know how he knew that, but he did. The Astral Sea. That must be where he was. He looked around the ship. As he looked, the name 'The Per Aspera' popped into his mind. Where did that name come from? He racked his mind, but came up with nothing. That must be the name of the ship he was on, but how did he know?
He shook his head, and instead examined his body for damage. Aside from cuts and gashes, he saw marks on his arms, almost like paint, but it didn't flake with scratching. On his right arm, an image of a brass gear engulfed in flame, a shield with an unfamiliar symbol on it surrounded by flowers, and a golden figure with indistinct features curled into a ball with darkness surrounding it.
On his left arm, there was a picture of a bolt being turned by a wrench marked with strange writing, and a sickle with tiny glowing figures with wet wings dancing round it.
He didn't know what they meant, but he knew they were important. He thought he remembered a hint of why, but as soon as he chased the thought, it was gone. Why could he remember they were significant, but not why? Why did he know the name of the ship, but not who was on it or why he was there? And why couldn't he remember anything else?
All he could remember was the sea and the soulmarks.
-
When Dani woke up, it was around an hour before she usually did. She hissed in pain as she felt the sensation of a new soulmark etching itself into her arm. She quickly rolled up her sleeve and inspected the new image, right below her left elbow. An orb with arcane engravings, lying shattered on the ground, drawn in silvery blue ink that stood out against her orange skin.
She wondered what the orb meant as she scanned her other marks, surveying them for noticable changes. They were the same as before: A golden figure shielding themselves from inky darkness, an engraved shield surrounded by flowers, a sickle with butterflies around it, and a long bookcase curling around her wrist filled with all sorts of scrolls and tomes. She noted that the bookshelf now looked slightly grainy, like an old photograph, compared to yesterday. Weird.
Dani got out from under her covers and sat on the bed, thinking about what the orb could mean. Maybe her soulmate was in trouble. Maybe the broken orb meant they lost something. Maybe…. No! Stop thinking about that! Her soulmate was fine. Maybe they… dropped something! Yeah. That must be it.
Shit. She probably wasn't gonna get more sleep tonight.
-
Finbar was tending to the back garden outside his house when he felt the stinging sensation of a new soulmark burning its way into his arm. He winced, coming to a stopping point with what he was doing before rolling up his sleeve and inspecting the new image. A broken glass ball with patterns all over its surface printed in silvery blue ink. Finbar wondered what that could mean. Maybe his soulmate was a magic type person. Maybe they were, but then decided to do something else. Maybe…. Maybe his soulmate was broken. Shattered, like the glass ball.
Finbar shook that thought out of his head as quickly as it came. If they were hurt, and he wasn't there to help, what kind of soulmate would that make him? He distracted himself from these thoughts by looking over his other marks. A bookshelf curling round his right wrist. One of his soulmates must be pretty smart. A flaming cog, on his right forearm. Maybe they liked fire. A golden humanoid, curled in on themselves, surrounded by inky black, right below his right elbow. It looked so sad, he just wanted to hug them. And it looked kind of spiky, maybe it was a Dragonborn? Then, a wrench turning a brass bolt, inscribed with unfamiliar writing. Maybe they fixed things, and spoke a different language.
Wherever his other soulmates were, he hoped they were okay.
-
Kyana was in the middle of sparring when she felt the stinging burn of a new mark singeing its way onto her arm. She faltered in the middle of a block, distracted by the sensation, and felt a stun take hold as she fell prone. Thankfully, the stun didn't last long, and the other initiate helped her up. A pretty young woman with long dark hair in a simple braid and a light green monk's uniform.
Kyana knew her, like she knew all the monks in her monastery. Half remembered faces and names that she had to search for in her memory in order to start a conversation. This monk's name was Ione. They bowed to each other, as was customary after a spar, exchanged a few words of encouragement, and went their separate ways.
Later, after Kyana was tucked in her solitary room, she unwrapped the bandages around her arm and finally took a look at the new mark. It was a glass ball, shattered on the floor. It looked really fancy, she had never seen anything like it. She wondered if the ball was something that other non-monks used, or if it was a decorative thing. Either way, it seemed like a shame that it broke, it had all sorts of pretty markings on it.
But Kyana knew that it wasn't a shame. She knew what these marks meant. When she got her first one, she went to Priar Sephrum and showed her. Then Priar Sephrum explained that those marks represented things she needed to work on. Each mark meant she needed to train harder. When she mastered them, they'd go away.
She was only around 6 at the time, so she only had the flaming gear, bookshelf, and shield with flowers on her right arm. But over time, it got worse. She now had 6 marks and each one of them was something she needed to overcome. Something she needed to master, in order to perfect her training. In order to get out. But it was hard. So, so hard. She trained as much as she could, worked harder than ever, and now she got another one. Another thing to beat. Another problem to solve.
And they were all so pretty! The bookshelf had more than she would ever be able to read in a lifetime, and it was so colorful. The gear was so shiny, like it was just polished. The shield had a pretty pattern on it, and the flowers looked so delicate and real. She never saw flowers in the monastery. The wrench and bolt were so cool, they looked like they made up something really special for the writing on the wrench to be that fancy. And the sickle with fireflies looked like it was glowing purple, and the little fireflies looked so pretty! The orb looked important. It was covered in pretty patterns and markings, and she was almost sad that it was broken.
But no! Kyana shouldn't be sad. These were symbols of things she needed to master. They represented her failure. She shouldn't feel bad for them, she wouldn't! But now she was tired, and frustrated with herself for thinking so much about it. She gripped the covers around her and buried her face in her pillow, and slowly fell into sleep.