Soul's Mates

It was happening. Well, it had been happening. Today, however, was the day it would all change. It was Ceremony Day after all.

Ceremony Day only happened every five years, for those between the ages of 19 and 29. It was a complicated event, that mostly helped to determine your career path in life, but also… helped you to find your perfect match.

It was originally a tradition between families until a drastic change in weather hit the world. It was sudden and wiped out half of the world's population. That was over 100 years ago.

Today, was no day to think about those things. No, today was the day that I’d be able to find my place in life. I let out a big, long sigh, not realizing I was holding my breath and staring at the clock on my bedside table. The bright green digital numbers read 4:15 AM, only 10 more minutes and I’d officially be 23.

I sat up, throwing the covers off of me. I had been awake laying in bed since the clock said 4. I was beyond excited to see what the day held in store for me. I stood up, stretching my arms above my head and stretching out my spine. My bed was comfortable enough, but the sleep I had was anything but restful. I walked to my closet and slide open the door. It was fairly big; I could fit a twin bed in it and still have room for at least one nightstand. Instead, I had tons of suites, dresses, long sleep tops, shorts, and form-fitting pants. I hardly wore anything else. My shoes, I only had a few, I had two pairs of nice, work shoes, three different sneakers, some slippers, and sandals. The thing that looked like it was worn the most, were the big combat boots in front of them all. I only ever really replace those. Everything else was hardly used.

I made a lot of money. I graduated high school ad year early and went straight to college. I studied law and took the bar just a few weeks ago feeling successful. I had graduate both high school and college top of my entire graduate year and class. I was doing some part-time freelance work while at school, finding people who went missing, and collecting information on missing objects. I got paid well for my jobs and worked alongside a ton of police many times when cases went sideways. My whole city knew me and adored me.

I never get to my ego though. I have done more free business than I had paid. Business for homeless, for runaways, for abuse survivors, drug addicts, and more. Anyone who needed help and wanted to change, I was there the help them. I only ever really charged for things like tracking down unfaithful husbands and wives, or finding lost heirlooms, and whenever the police needed help. It was hard work but came easily to me.

I worked my way through my clothes until I found a red dress with a Loong dragon on it, a dragon from Chinese Mythology. It was the most expensive thing I’ve ever bought, and I got it just for Ceremony Day. It was made of pure satin, and the dragon looped around the entire dress. The straps were thick, and the bust had a small V cut-stitch. The skirt of the dress was cut at the sides and held with satin laces to hug the legs. It was beautiful.

I pulled it out of the closet and walked towards a mirror hung on my wall. I swayed and examined the dress as I did. My eyes following the flow of the dragon. I looked for a long while, then looked at myself. My eyes were heterochromia, the right was blue, and the left was a honey brown. Surrounding my left eye, however, were pure black markings that curved along the left side of my eyes and face, then down my neck. I had just gotten these markings after my college graduation. Usually, your markings would take a full year to form, but mine were not normal at all. I was a late bloomer, people would get their markings as early as 17, and as late as 25. I got mine at 22. I knew only one other person who hadn’t had their markings until they were older, a schoolmate that had called just a week ago to say they got theirs overnight. The longer it takes for your markings to come in, the quicker they appear. My schoolmate was 24, so it was understandable that theirs appeared so quickly.

Mine, took one week, and by the time I took my bar examine, I was fully marked. I traced my markings down my face and to my neck, the black skin felt no different than the rest of myself. Soft and supple. I sighed and examined myself in the mirror more. My hair was black with tight with curls and my skin a toffee brown. I was 5 foot and 7 inches tall, muscular yet petite for my size. I sighed, setting my dress up on my mirror, and turned towards the bathroom to shower. The door to the restroom was beside my closet and was conjoined with my sister’s room. The way it was set up, we had the hall out in front, and to the left was my room, the bathroom, then my sister’s room on the opposite end. We had two sinks, and when someone was using the restroom, we had lights on each of our doors that would turn on. Red for wait and green for you’re okay to waltz in.

I flipped on the bathroom lights and turned a dial next to the lights to the left, turning on the little green lights on our doors. I walked to my sink and opened my mirror to pull out my toothbrush and toothpaste. I loved the strong minty flavors, not because I thought it would keep my bad morning breath at bay, but because growing up I was always told that it’s the flavor dragons used to keep the fire in their bellies burning bright. It a silly way to get a child to brush, but it was one of my favorite stories and memories of my mother.

I brushed for a good three minutes before flossing my teeth and swishing back some mouth wash. I had taken a shower before I slept, so my hair was extra curly. I grabbed a comb and filled a cup with some warm water and started going through my hair. When it was un-tangled, and every inch was damp with the water I rubbed in some dry conditioner to give it back some life. I then sectioned out some pieces by my ears and started to braid them tight. When the braids were done, there were three on either side of my face falling to my clavicle. I then pulled half of my hair up, splitting them into twin buns on either side of my head, leaving the rest of my hair down to curl tight around me. It was 5:15 when I was done and my sister came in.

She was in her pajamas, her face covered in charcoal and her eyes as baggy as the shirt she wore. She smiled at me though as she walked to her sink. She splashed water on her face and rubbed away the charcoal with soap. When her face was clear she turned towards me.

“I’ve finished it.” She said with a smile. “I did fall asleep on it, but I woke up when your alarm went off and finished the last bit.”

“You did Avina?” I smiled at her, “I’m sure you’ll blow it out of the park when you turn it in today.”

“Yeah.” Avina smiled, the right side of her face held her markings, and even though hers were still forming, they looped, and curled around her face like rose vines, it was beautiful, a piece of art on an artist. Her eyes were hazel, and her skin was a slightly darker toffee color than mine. She also dyed her hair often, and currently, she was rocking icy-white hair with neon-green roots. I pulled her to me and hugged and kissed her forehead. She was my little sister. We were 6 years apart and when our mother died, I spent most of my time helping my Dad keep her on track with school. We walked to school together until she felt ready to do it herself, and when that happened, she found a ton of artsy-fartsy friends. They did get into some trouble, tagging walls around the city, until I helped set up a program for artists to be able to create work in groups on walls all over the city. It was a program that put money aside for each artist’s college education, and the artwork they put out, was just inspiring. Our city was known for the rows of buildings with large paintings on them.

It was something our mother had wanted to do herself. So with the help of the inheritance, she gave my sister and I, we both set up the program. Now that I’ve graduated from law school, the program was mostly handled by our Dad and my sister. I had been on my toes all week, hoping to hear about the results for my bar exam, but was told just yesterday I’d be getting the answers today on Ceremony Day. It was a thing, that any answers from potential employers or results from tests would only be announced on Ceremony Day. It gives people the chance to decide if they want to accept the career path they started themselves, or pave one that the Ceremony Council decides. I was sure I’d be getting the same path regardless. They were sticklers for keeping people on track to what they wanted.

I took a brush from her side of the sink and helped her brush her hair as she started to fix her face with make-up. “So have you heard back from the school yet? Or will they answer after your final project?”

Avina looked at me through the mirror as she was placing on some eyeliner. “I’ll hear today, my teacher has a party for the class today, a sort of mock Ceremony Day.”

I chuckled, braiding her colorful hair into a tri-braid. “I remember those. I’ll tell you later if it’s the same or not.”

She smiled at me, but then her smile faded. “Nova… I’ve been hearing stories lately…”

“About?” I asked as I finished braiding her hair.

“About mother…” Avina put her eyeliner down and turned towards me. “People have been saying she died because she broke a law.”

I frowned and shook my head, “She died because she was in the military and was sent to war.”

“I know. I know that. But people have started saying this since Ceremony day was announced to be today… Some people say they saw proof of her crimes.”

“Avina. Just ignore them the best you can. They’re wrong. Don’t even acknowledge them.” I kissed her forehead. “Now finish getting ready, We have my birthday breakfast to go to soon, and I’m sure Dad is almost done getting ready himself.”

She let out a heavy sigh and nodded turning back to the mirror as I went back to my room to change into my dress.

It wasn’t news to me that people were gossiping, they had gossiped for years. I never listened, I heard so many reasons for our mother’s death. She went to war. She killed a cop. She killed me. She killed Dad. She robbed the wrong person. She was a drug dealer. Any reason people could think of as an answer to my mother’s sudden death, and why no one really knew how or why she died, they deemed it true.

It was always hard to hear, but after a time, it became hysterical. The most ridiculous reason I’ve heard that my mother was killed for, she wore red on her ceremony day. And now I’d wear red on mine.

It was a superstition that a lot of people never took seriously. There were always a few dozen people wearing red on their Ceremony Day, and I know some for a fact are still alive, old, and grey, with grandkids. For a color to be the reason someone died, was just utterly ridiculous.

I slipped into my dress, easily, and pulled on my thick combat boots. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled. One superstition everyone followed, was no one wore any makeup on their Ceremony Day. My face was fresh, and my markings bold. They complimented the dragon on my dress as if my markings were the markings of a dragon themselves, and I was the dragon.

I walked to my door, grabbed my messenger bag that I had used for school, it still had a pocket with my wallet and id, and the rest of the pockets had clothes, papers and pens, and some hygiene products. I sighed, today would be the last day I live here, for the next year. Everyone traveled a year after their Ceremony Day. They find where they want to live to spend the rest of their life working in their destined field.

I closed up my bag, and opened my door, walking down the hall and down the stairs to the living room where my Dad was putting on his coat with my sister trailing behind me.

“Are you two ready? After breakfast, I’ll take you to school, and then you and I will go to the arena.” He said with a smile.

“It’s at the arena?” Avina asked. “That place is huge!”

“I’ve seen it only once, when it was empty… I’m sure it’ll be a lot bigger full.” I said to her as she grabbed my coat for me.

I shook my head, and she put it back grabbing her own. “You’re crazy for not wanting one.”

“I’m too excited to be cold.” She rolled her eyes at that, and out Dad opened the door for her to walk outside. It was freezing, as evident by the frost breath leaving my sister’s mouth. I thought for a moment I might want my coat after all, but as the breeze blew towards me, I decided against it. I’d walk into the arena with my head held high, because I was ready to face my future, whatever it may hold for me.

I walked out after my sister, and our Dad locked the door behind us. We headed to the car and drove to our favorite diner. It was old and shabby, but it had the best food. We ate and laughed and celebrated my birthday for an hour before we paid, tipped, and took my sister to her high school. She had placed her project in the car right when she was done with it, and I could see just barely a face peeking at me as she pulled it out and head to school with a quick wave and farewell.

“I can’t wait to see it when she posts it online.” I said to my Dad as I waved goodbye to my sister.

“She drew you ya know. Drew you the way she sees you. It's quite brilliant.” He smiled, “You both are. I’m proud of you both.”

I smiled at him as we drove to the arena. “I’m excited Dad, I don’t know what to really expect.”

My Dad’s smile wavered, “It’ll be alright.” He said, “But… follow your gut…”

I blinked confused. “My gut? But the law-“

“No.” He said sternly. “You need to follow your gut. Whatever is said, whatever your answer. You follow it. You keep your sister safe.”

“Dad, what are you talking about?” I asked as he pulled into the parking lot.

“I don’t have much time to explain… so just know I and your mother loved you both very much. We… it was dangerous… but we knew the truth…” He turned off the car and looks around. “Nova… You’re mother… she…” He let out a deep sigh. “She wasn’t my match.”

My ears burned at that. The world stopped at that.

My mother wasn’t my father’s match?

“But you have the same face markings?” I asked my voice raising a bit.

“We didn’t. She made it seem like it but we were not.” He pulled a picture out of the glove compartment in front of me, handing it to me. “This was taken the day we met.” He said. “She was not my match. But she was, the love of my life.”

I looked over the picture and looked at my father. I looked back and forth between them and felt my heart start to race. My dad’s markings were sharp at every corner, but my mother's, they curved. My fathers were jagged, like thorns, and my mothers, soft like petals. It was painfully obvious they didn’t match. “But you knew where she was always…. You said you were connected- you said you felt the connection that you…”

“I did… But I also felt another’s… the one I was said to be matched to…” My father looked at me straight on. “Why they will tell you is not always true. Sometimes… your match… is not your match… sometimes… they are evil… sometimes… they are cruel… Sometimes… all they want from you… is your life.”

“I don’t understand Dad! What are you trying to tell me?” I said clutching the photo in my hand.

“I’m telling you… You are not bound by the laws our society has. I’m telling you. The person who killed your mother… Was the person who bared the same exact markings on her face. I’m telling you. To trust your gut. Not the voice you will hear in your head. Your markings aren’t fully done. As soon as the very last bit is solid black… you will hear the voice of your other half. But you will also hear the voice of another. Be wary of both.”

“But Dad… It’s illegal to marry someone who isn’t your match. It… you’re… you’re getting arrested today aren’t you?” I asked panic filling my voice. “But what about Avina? What about me?”

“Nova… Avina will be fine. You will be fine.” He clasped my hands in his, “I will be okay.” He said with a shaky breath. “I will die… but I will not die without my children knowing how much their parents loved each other. You two are strong women. You two are special women. You two are the only children I know of that have lived beyond teenage years with parents like your mother and I. You need to be brave, keep yourself and your sister safe. Fight for your right to live. Always.” He said kissing my cheek.

He then got out of the car. He walked to my side, opening my door and helping me out. “You fake it. Put on a brave face and pretend like you do not know me. From this day forth, you must pretend like I was nothing. You must pretend like you will obey every law. Go back home when this is done. Take your sister and run. Go to another country and live there with her.”

He handed me my bag and pushed me towards the arena. He had slipped the car keys in my bag. I could hear them jingle. I looked back at him and he was already walking towards the street. I could see a few other parents there, all surrounded by police. They all ignored their children. I could see some crying to their mothers to look at them, some on their knees begging the police to spare their fathers. I practiced law. I knew the law. I knew it well.

I turned my back to my father, to the scene of tears and pain, and walked to the arena. I had so many questions, but I knew the answer to one thing for sure.

Being with someone else’s soulmate. Was a crime, and you would always be put to death. Publicly. On Ceremony Day.