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Marc’s first string appeared wrapped around his left index finger on his eighth birthday. Just after the first time he blacked out. It didn’t lead anywhere like the strings were supposed to, just curled around the base of his finger like a coiled snake. Marc assumed this meant he didn’t have a soulmate, that he didn’t deserve one. He didn’t think about it a lot, not even when the second string appeared wrapped around his middle finger.
When he met Layla and the string connecting them appeared on both their left ring fingers his heart skipped a beat. But not for the right reason. How could he do what he came here to do now? How could he tell her? He couldn’t. So he didn’t.
Steven was perplexed by the string that extended out from his left ring finger. He didn’t remember it appearing, just woke up with it one day. What, did he meet his soulmate while sleepwalking? Or did the both of them simply not notice when the string connecting them formed. It could have been someone on the bus he took to work, a museum patron, anyone. He tried following it once, but pretty soon after he’d started he blacked out and woke up in his bed. After that he figured he’d let his soulmate find him.
And she did find him. Right in the middle of the most confusing mess he’d ever gotten himself into, she arrived. And she was amazing. Perfect. She called him ‘Marc’ though. And as he started to understand more and more he also started to suspect that maybe the string wasn’t his at all.
When Marc woke up in the psych ward the string on his ring finger was pointing directly at the ceiling. Even when Layla approached him eating a marshmallow. He tried to follow it with his gaze but it was so hard to move his head. Instead he stared down at the other strings, which had uncurled and now led somewhere outside of the room he was in. What room was he in? He was in an office. Harrow’s office.
When he ran he decided his best bet was to follow the strings. He came across the room the one on his index finger pointed to first. When he opened the sarcophagus and found Steven inside of it he didn’t even think about the implications of his string leading to his alter’s left index finger, he just was so happy to see him. He hugged Steven tight, and Steven gripped the back of his shirt in return. Things would be okay now. Now that he had Steven everything would be okay.
As they exited the room they followed the strings on their middle fingers, it seemed like as good a place to start as any. But they didn’t really think about the implications of it or what they would find at the end. Marc was busy trying to figure out what was going on. Steven was staring at the string on his ring finger in confusion and something like awe.
“Where’s Layla?” Steven asked. “Why does her string go straight up like that? Are we underground or something?”
“I don’t know, maybe,” Marc replied. Then they saw the end of the middle finger strings. They led into a shaking red sarcophagus. Marc and Steven looked at it for a second, but then something like a mental fog descended and the sarcophagus slid out of their thoughts before they could process the implications. They kept going in the direction they were headed before until they heard loud booming footsteps.
In the field of reeds, Marc felt at peace. He truly did. But the sight of his index finger’s string leading off into the sands beyond made his heart ache. Even though he held his heart in his hand he felt it in his chest. “No, I’m not good with that.” And he followed his string out of paradise.
It was only after the blackout in Cairo that Marc and Steven acknowledged the string on their middle finger and what it meant. Layla suggested they try meditating, and they did. They learned to go back to that space in their mind that used to be Harrow’s office but was now Steven’s old flat. They would wait there. The middle finger string pointing straight down. Steven would make tea and Marc would pace while it was steeping. He was getting angry that the third alter wouldn’t show himself but Steven’s patience softened his rage. They learned to project themselves in the inner world separately, to see if that might help draw him out. Eventually even Steven’s patience ran out. He grabbed the red string, which was intangible in reality, and pulled. Marc watched in shock as he ripped the string up through the floor like he was tearing a weed from a garden. Eventually the string began to stretch and Marc was about to shout at Steven to stop before he broke it when there was a knock on the flat’s door. Suddenly the string Steven was pulling was gone and the strings on both alters’ middle fingers were leading right outside the door instead of down. They approached, almost cautiously, and Marc opened the door.
There, in front of them, was a nervous-looking alter with a string on his index finger connecting to Steven’s, and one on his middle finger connecting to Marc’s. He also had a ring finger string that, like the others’, was pointing straight up.
He didn’t make eye contact. “What do you want from me?” He asked gruffly.
“Well, we can start with your name,” Steven answered.
“Jake Lockley.”
Then Steven grabbed his shirt, pulled him forward (Jake seemed too surprised to resist) and threw his arms around him. “Hi, Jake.”
Jake cautiously put his arms around the other man. “Hi, Steven.”
Marc put a hand on Jake’s shoulder. “It’s nice to finally meet you. We have a lot to talk about.”