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“Gladio, can I see it again?”
Noctis knows Gladio knows what he’s asking for, but he still responds with a whale-like, “Hm?” despite the smile that stretches on his face. His eyes remain closed, though, and his arms crossed under his head. The perfect look of relaxation, complete with the swaying silhouettes of trees, the rustle of their leaves and the orange skies of oncoming dusk.
Noctis snorts and rolls to his side, removing his tackle kit between him and his Shield. “Hm, my foot. You-know-what!” His object of interest is nothing weird, of course—it wasn’t illegal drugs or Gladioʼs porn—but he’d asked to see it so often by now that his self-consciousness has finally caught up with him.
When he kicks Gladio with his boot, the man cracks open with barks of laughter, but he finally rolls to his side, his mass tugging a little on the picnic mat he and Noctis share. Finally, he reveals his right forearm, the inside facing Noctis.
Noctis pulls it lower and closer to him to inspect the birthmark that adorns his pulse. It’s much smaller and discreet than the one he bears on his back, and its lines are softer and lighter, like something from an old map. Soul marks, their clerics call them—drawings borne from their own skins, on the day their souls reach 21 years, otherwise known as their Astral Age. In the Eosian Calendar, they would reveal themselves on their 20th birthdays.
Gladioʼs soul mark takes on the shape of a left human hand, palm out, leaning right, its thumb hooked onto another that belongs to a missing hand. Noctis knows who bears the missing half of the piece.
“What did Ignis say when he found out you were his soulmate all this time?” Noctis asks him, finally returning Gladioʼs arm to himself.
“Not much, actually,” Gladio says, laughter still at the back of his voice. He puts his arms back behind his head. “I caught him while he was on his way to a meeting so he just grabbed my wrist, stared at it, and told me thank the gods I’m someone competent, then marched off to the council room.”
Noctis laughs at his tale, too, clapping his hands. “Ignis was more worried about his soulmate than anything!”
“Yeah, I feel like that guy would have hacked his arm off if he found out his soulmate was that council elder who keeps shoving their work to him,” Gladio replies in mirthful snorts. “Hey,” he gestures to Noctis, “it’s your soul day soon, ain’it? Three days from now…” That would be why they are out today on an extended picnic by the lake. One last bachelor hurrah before he comes of age and can finally, officially be betrothed to his childhood friend Luna across the ocean.
“Yeah,” Noctis sighs, bringing his empty pulses up to look at them. “The curiosity’s driving me mad. What’s my soul mark gonna be? Who’s my soulmate?”
“You’ll find out soon enough.” Gladio taps his boot with his own, as opposed to clasping his shoulder with his hand. When Noctis’ phone plays out a melodious song, he barks out a, “Right!” and pulls himself up to sit, his large hands striking echoes in the empty air as they clap. “Ready to land that beast?”
“You bet!” Noctis practically flies up to his feet, grabbing his fishing rod from the side. “Donʼt lose it, okay?!” He rushes to the dock stretching out to the placid lake.
“Let’s see if you catch it with those scrawny arms first!” Gladio retorts with a challenge of his own.
—
On his birthday, Noctis wakes up with an itch on his left arm.
It starts like a bug bite—small and unobtrusive and nice to scratch. But as the minutes pass, the rash spreads out, and scratching it starts to feel more irritating than a relief.
He’s up on his bed when Ignis introduces himself to his bedroom, baring his fangs on his red skin. “Good morning, Your Highness. Many happy returns.” The door shuts. “I see it’s already begun.”
“Yeah.” Noctis frowns at Ignis who approaches with a tray that was laden with a full traditional breakfast, complete with soup and some fruits and even a slice of cake. A small gift box is present on the corner, plain except for a simple bow. “You didn’t tell me it was gonna be this maddening.”
“Oh no. I told you it kept me up all night,” Ignis laughs despite Noctis’ distress. He flicks the tray legs outwards and sets it on the bed. Then with a gentle hand, he brings Noctis’ blushing wrist to himself, fixing his glasses. It’s on fire right now, and feels raw and swollen. “Hm. It’s not so bad yet. When you scratch it,” Ignis curls his fingers into a fist, showing it to Noctis, “make like a cat’s paw and rub your skin with the front of your knuckles. The friction will bring some relief without damaging your skin.”
“Okay.” Noctis nods obediently and tries out his suggestion gingerly.
“I’ll get you some cream to help with the itch. I’ll be back in 15 minutes.” Ignis shows himself out the door.
“Yeah,” Noctis chases him with his response. “Appreciate it, Ignis.” He puts his attention back to his arm and notices that a bit of skin has come loose. Carefully, he peels it off his arm, and holds out a strip about as long as his pinky finger to the light.
Noctis flinches in disgust.
Ignis returns just when the welts appear and wraps it in a strip of gauze after applying the cream. Noctis still often catches himself scratching it from under his long sleeve as he ticks off one ceremony after another. A few hours before his birthday gala, the itching finally stops.
Noctis almost trips and cracks his head in his bathroom wall when he finally sees the shape of his newborn soul mark after stripping out of his shirt. “Ignis!” he bellows and races out to the living room where Ignis is fitting the protective cover around his ceremonial cape. “Ignis, I see it!!”
Ignis drops his cape to his couch and closes the distance in quick urgent steps, pushing his glasses closer to his eyes as Noctis holds his left arm out to him. The lines are still young and red, like a fresh tattoo, but the shape is otherwise undeniable.
“Is that…” Ignis looks closer. “A gamepad?”
“Yeah,” Noctis confirms, laughter bubbling from the back of his throat. “Here’s the L1, L2, the directional buttons, then the joystick and the grip.” He points out each of them in turn.
Ignis huffs out quietly, straightening up. “What does this mean?”
“It means whoever my soulmate is is a badass gamer like me, too!” Noctis cracks up, slapping Ignis on his bicep.
Ignis only cocks a brow to him. “A badass gamer would know how to turn off his game at 3 in the morning.” He returns to the couch and picks up his cape again.
“A badass gamer like me can finish a game in two days,” he waves two fingers at Ignis, chasing after him, “with all characters collected and the best ending nailed!”
“Would that explain why you neglected to save your game when you switched it off after 3 hours of farming and grinding?” Ignis argues back, still unimpressed. Noctis scratches his head. No surprise Ignis would remember that. His advisor nods him back to his bathroom. “Go take a shower. You’ll catch a cold walking around shirtless like that.”
“Yup.” Rightfully chastised, Noctis walks off, eyes falling again on his soul mark.
—
Ignis wasn’t impressed with his soul mark, and Gladio just laughed, clapped him on his back and told him to give him 10 repetitions of the 5th form.
But Prompto—he can always count on him to appreciate a true work of art.
A long swoon comes out of his pursed lips like a siren when Prompto practically sticks his nose onto Noctis’ soul mark. It’s much darker now and clearer than when he’d shown it to Ignis last night.
“Cool, huh?” Noctis smiles in triumph, getting back to the business of rolling sushi for a pick-up order coming in 20 minutes. Prompto has stopped by his part-time job for a quick lunch between shoots.
He sits now at the counter, facing Noctis, two empty plates stacked on top of each other in front of him, a half-drunk iced tea sweating at his side. “Sooo, does that mean whoever your soulmate is is going to have the other side of the gamepad on their arm?!”
Noctis shrugs. “Dunno.” After slicing up the roll, he pulls a plastic box from under him and arranges the sushi in it. “Itʼs different from person to person, isn’t it? Gladioʼs and Ignis’ soul marks are symmetrical, but Luna and Gentiana’s soul marks aren’t. I think,” he hums, eyes on the long fluorescent light hanging overhead, “Gentiana’s soul mark is floating sylleblossom petals, and Luna’s soul mark is the actual sylleblossom flower. Kinda like that.”
Prompto hums, biting into the straw of his drink to slurp it dry. “Yeah, you’re right…” He puts the glass back on its water ring on the counter and looks at his empty pulses. “Man, I wonder what my soul mark is gonna be! Is it gonna be a camera? A chocobo? Cindy?!” Grandpa Cid’s granddaughter who he’s met in a couple of out-of-town road trips with the royal family. He rubs his wrists together, as if they were scratch cards hiding a prize. “Hey,” he looks at Noctis again, “but is it true what they say? You kinda have an idea what the other soul mark looks like?”
“Yeah,” Noctis says. He sets aside the finished sushi and takes the time to wash his hands before he goes on. “So that we have a clue what to look out for. Gladio said he kept thinking about a mirror while he was waiting for his soulmate. But for me…” He dries his hands on the towel attached to his apron, then leans forward with his hands at the edge of the counter. “I keep wanting to move my right thumb.”
“Hu—uuh?” Prompto stretches it out, sagging sideways. “How’s that supposed to work out?”
Noctis shrugs. “Beats me.”
Prompto glances at his hands briefly, then flashes his right pulse at Noctis who has to jump back before his best friend can punch him on the nose. “Do you think it’s gonna be me?! I mean I didn’t finish that game with the best ending in two days but I totally beat its superboss in a blind run!”
“You just wanna keep boasting about that,” Noctis laughs, taking his glass to refill it with ice and tea.
“But man, wouldn’t that be cool?!” When next Prompto looks at his right pulse, he suddenly appears proud of it. “If I get the other part of your soul mark, I could totally sell my arm for a premium price!” He paints the call-to-action in the air with his hand. “Genuine right arm of the Prince’s soulmate.” He dances on his stool, clapping his hands. “I could make enough fortune to buy the entire LOKTON!”
“Idiot, you’ll have to set aside enough money for prosthesis,” Noctis snaps in good humor as he passes him his refreshed glass. “Besides, you’re gonna be my best man. No take backsies.”
“Obviously.” Prompto rolls his eyes. “I mean, if I won’t be your best man—” That’s when he flies up to his feet and gapes at Noctis. “You’re getting married?!” Thank the Astrals the restaurant is empty.
“Yeah.” Noctis crosses his arms, tucking his hands in each sleeve of his happi. “Three months from now. Didn’t you watch the betrothal?”
“Three months—wait a minute.” Prompto mumbles to himself as he counts with his fingers.
His hands slam on the bar as he belts out to his best friend, “Thatʼs on my soul day!”
“Yep.” Noctis grins. “Guess you’re celebrating your birthday in Tenebrae.”
—
Three months go by in a blur. Before they know it, they’ve packed up Noctis’ apartment, one night before the wedding trip.
After rolling his sleeves back, Ignis lines up his soul mark perfectly next to Gladioʼs, completing the image of two hands, hooked together by the thumb to resemble a bird with outstretched wings. Gladio bears the wings that mark the next Sworn Protector of the Crown, and Ignis will eventually step up to be his Hand when Noctis ascends the throne.
Noctis sighs, parking his cheeks on the heels of his palms as he studies the image.
“Whatʼs wrong?” Gladio asks. “Wedding blues?”
“Maybe.” Noctis scratches his head, leaning back to his seat. They’re at the dining table, waiting for the water to boil for their Cup Noodles, a late night congratulatory snack after the work they pulled. They left Prompto in the living room to finish a stage in a game none of them can seem to wrap their head around. “Just thinking…when I get married, do you think I’ll still find out who my soulmate is?”
“When we close our eyes, our left hand still knows where our right hand is, and the same goes the other way,” Ignis tells him, rolling back his sleeve. Gladio gets up to take care of the kettle when they hear it whistle. “The element that binds our souls together is absolute. That’s why soulmates are always those who know each other best. So whoever your soulmate is, I have no doubts they will be somewhere you can find easily.”
“Is that why Gladio keeps telling me to finish my vegetables even when you’re not in the room?”
Ignis chuckles. “Mental bond or no mental bond, we are simply both concerned about your health, Noct.” He tips his head to Gladio when his soulmate passes him his Cup Noodles. Seafood—Ignis’ favorite flavor. “My thanks.”
“Put a dash of chili pepper spice in there, too,” Gladio adds, handing him a fork.
“Just the way I like it,” Ignis says with a smile. Noctis wants to scoff. Mental bond. Right.
“You?” Gladio beckons to him, shaking two cups, one curry, the other seafood.
“Uh, I’ll get the seafood, too,” Noctis decides. For no other reason than he doesn’t think there should be another reason to remind the room of his and Ignis’ bond.
Gladio salutes with the cup. “Seafood cup noodles coming right up for the groom-to-be.”
“Shut up,” Noctis snorts, though he doesn’t do anything about Gladioʼs teasing. While Gladio fills up the remaining cups and Ignis gets up to fetch their drinks, he rolls his own sleeve back and places his soul mark on the table.
Next to it, he brings up his right hand, as if he is holding a gamepad. He moves his right thumb up and down, as if he were pressing a button.
—
They take a day to drive from Insomnia to Galdin Quay, another day to sail from Galdin Quay to Altissia where they spend the night before they sail again—this time to Tenebrae.
Evening has come by the time they make it to Fenestala Manor where they are welcomed with a grand dinner, missing Luna and Gentiana. Something about a superstition with the groom seeing his bride before the wedding. Noctis couldn’t care less; he’s been texting Luna throughout the journey and is pretty much wiped out to be much of a human by the end of it.
After a hot shower, he drops with the weight of a yacht onto his bed and practically falls asleep right then and there. When he wakes up, it’s already dark.
And someone is grunting and kicking around.
Noctis growls. He’s frustrated—he never wants to wake up again until maybe next week, but someone switches the lamp on and someone else gets up so he has no choice but to crack his eyes and check out what’s going on.
By the light at the corner at the far side of the room (it’s a full suite) between Ignis and Prompto’s guest beds, he sees Prompto scratching his right arm until Gladio, crouching, his back turned, swats his hand off and captures his wrist. “Mm, it’s starting.” Gladio looks at Ignis who sits up, reaching for his glasses. “Donʼt bother. I’ll get the cream and the gauze strips.”
“Just stop him from ripping his arm into shreds,” is all Ignis tells him as he pads towards the closet.
“Roger that,” Gladio rumbles. “Well,” this time he’s talking to Prompto, “least we know we really are celebrating your birthday on the right date,” he chuckles. “Make sure you tell your mom and dad.”
“They totally know, though. Mom was the nurse who assisted my biological mother when she gave birth to me.” Later, having no money to pay for his care (healthcare in Zegnautus is said to be dismal), his biological mother abandoned Prompto in the PICU. Then his mom pitied him and adopted him then quit her job to move to Lucis with her Lucian husband. Noctis knows that story by heart. “Ahhh, it’s so itchy!” Prompto gets kicking again.
Gladio shuts him up with a growly shush. By now, Ignis has made it to Promptoʼs side, that familiar vial in hand. “The Prince is sleeping and he’s got a long day tomorrow. Here, I’ll show you a tip. Make like a cat’s paw and use the front of your knuckles to…” Yup. Mhm. Been there. Done that.
Noctis rolls his eyes, dumps his head back onto his pillow and drags his entire comforter over it.
—
The next day, he’s rudely awakened by a noisy bird going, “Noct. Noct! Noct!” To the bird’s defense, it’s a whisper—but it’s very loud and Noctis is still very sleepy.
Noctis wakes up and glares at his friend who looks at him like some nervous caged animal. “Whut?” he mutters between his teeth.
With wide eyes, Prompto slowly reveals the product of his late night discomfort—a gamepad with a missing left, but complete with the R1 and R2, the four shape buttons and the joystick at the bottom. Noctis’ right thumb twitches to life.
He flies awake all of a sudden, practically yanking Prompto’s arm out of its socket (his best friend wailed) to stare closely at the gamepad which both feels new and familiar at the same time. He wrestles his sleeve off his left wrist and lines it up next to Promptoʼs inked pulse to complete the image.
Prompto looks at it, as well, even if he has to bend himself like a snake. A thrill shoots up his skin, something Noctis felt on his own. “Itʼs perfect.” He and Noctis whip to each other, eyes as round and wide.
“Our soul marks fit!” They cry together and to each other. “We’re soulmates!!”
The rest of whatever coherent thoughts they may still have dissolve in wild howls and hoots as Prompto jumps and wrestles Noctis back to bed just so they could pick themselves up and hug and bounce on the mattress. They’re still at it when someone knocks on the door and someone else practically shoves it open. Ignis, then Gladio, both spilling into the room, alarm painted all over their faces.
“What—”
Ignis hardly gets a word out before Noctis thrusts his soulmate’s arm to his men. “It’s him. He’s my soulmate!”
“Is that all?” Ignis looks like he’s ready to deflate, though Gladio is more curious and excited, turning Promptoʼs wrist around to look at the blushing lines.
He laughs out loud, holds up a hand and catches Promptoʼs fist. “You sure landed a big fish there, Prompto. Congratulations.”
“I told you he was gonna be a badass gamer like me!” Noctis tells Ignis who is sighing and fixing his glasses. “What was I thinking? Who else was it gonna be than my best friend and best man and the best coop partner I’ve ever had!” He shakes Prompto by his arms like a packet of flavored chips.
“Coops!” Prompto gasps, forcing Noctis to turn and face him. “Soulmates share a mental bond. You know what this means, right?!”
“Telepathy during coops?!” He doesn’t even have to think about it.
Prompto throws his fist up and lets out a great, “Yesss!”
Noctis throws up his own hands and echoes with a sharp hoot.
“All right, that’s enough!” Ignis barks and reaches for the both of them to tug them down and off the bed. “Congratulations, we’re very happy for you two, but it’s Noct’s wedding day and we do not the time to be talking about games!”
Noctis protests readily. “Dude, Ignis, it’s my soulmate’s soul day, too!”
“Wait, wait, wait,” Prompto waves his hands to their faces, asking to be listened to. “I got one more thing!” He juts his thumbs to Noctis then himself. “He doesn’t like waking up early but I do.”
Noctis chimes in excitedly. “I donʼt like vegetables but he does!”
“Noctis!”
Noctis and Prompto both stand in attention with their lips between their teeth.
Beside Ignis, Gladio is smothering his laughter, even when his soulmate is practically fuming at him. “There will. Be time. Enough. To celebrate your soul marks later. Let’s not forget that there is a reason. Why we are halfway across the planet.” He directs his glare at Prompto who raises his hands in surrender. “And while it is quite a momentous occasion, I am afraid the reason is not because of your soul day.”
“Ah, yeah!” Prompto throws finger guns at Ignis. “Totally, I get that. I’ll uh…” He gestures to Noctis with flailing hands. “I’ll see to it that Prince Noctis is ready for the wedding! I, I’m his best man, after all.”
“Good,” Ignis exhales, touching his glasses again. “See to it that he is as Gladio and I will both be busy with our own preparations.”
“Yeah, don’t bother yourself with me, Ignis. I’ll see you later.” Noctis waves him off.
Ignis doesn’t look like he’s ready to give in but Gladio manages to convince him to leave the room with him. For one last time, Gladio congratulates them.
Noctis feels like a bottle of soft drink waiting to burst as he and Prompto watch them step out the door and pull it shut. Without another breath wasted, they whirl at each other, snort and laugh, falling into a tight embrace.
“I can’t believe it, this is so cool!” Prompto gasps, pulling himself from his soulmate to gaze at his coveted soul mark. “Ahhh, I’m never gonna cut my arm off anymore,” he sings before he kisses it deeply with a wet smack.
“You better not!” Noctis runs his fingers up his hair. “We gotta show it to Luna and Dad and everyone else. They’re gonna be in for a shock!” He starts to laugh. “Hey, dude, where’s your camera?” They need to commemorate this day and he wants something to remember it by. All that time spent waiting…
Prompto gives a little start before he spins around the room and stumbles back to his bed. Noctis fixes his hair a little, catching sight of his soul mark from the corner of his eyes.
He brings it down to admire it, something warm and sure filling his chest. He’ll never have to look at it alone again…
“Noct!” Prompto calls to him, his camera in hand, waving him over with his right hand and the soul mark out.
Noctis beams at him and waves back with his left hand. “Yeah!” Fixing his shirt, he finally hurries over to his soulmate.